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death will inevitably take place in it during the year. The superstition about red hair obtains in ltaly, and the prejudice is expressed in the proverb:—

Capelli rossi, o tutto fuoco o tutto mosci. (Red hair, either all fire or all softness.)

ln ancient days the color was supposed to cure all manner of diseases, and the belief in its efficacy exists in some countries at the present day. lt was especially considered to have a healing effect on smallpox, for which it was applied both externally and internally. John of Gaddesdon, physician to Edward ll, describes how he cured one of the Royal princes who was suffering from this terrible disease. He says, "l took care that everything round the bed should be of red color, which succeeded so completely that the prince was restored to perfect health, with only the vestige of a pustule remaining." From another source we obtain still further details concerning Doctor John Gaddesdou's treatment of his patient. lt appears that he caused the unfortunate prince to be wrapped up in red blankets and covered with a red counterpane, while he gave him red juice of pomegranates to drink and red mulberry wine to gargle with. So late as 1765 we learn that the Emperor Francis I, who was suffering from smallpox, was ordered to be wrapped up in scarlet cloth. The treatment on this occasion, however, cannot be considered an unqualified success, as the patient died. Even in Japan the belief in red, as a cure for smallpox, was universal, for in a history of the country we are told that the Royal children, when suffering from the malady, were placed in rooms surrounded by red hangings and their attendants were obliged to wear scar

The Outlook.

let clothes. Other diseases besides smallpox are supposed to be cured by the application of this color. The inhabitants of the West of Scotland and of the West Indies wrap a piece of red cloth or flannel round children's throats to protect them from whooping cough, while early in the nineteenth century a shop in Fleet Street still sold pieces of red cloth for those suffering from scarlet fever—the remedy in all these cases being supposed to lie in the color and not in the material. Sore throats were also cured by wearing a charm concealed in a red bag, while a skein of scarlet silk tied round the neck with nine knots in front was a sure preventive against nose bleeding; if the sufferer were a woman, the knots must be tied by a man, and vice versa.

Besides being a sure and certain cure for most of the ills that flesh is heir to, there is also a widespread belief that this color has the effect of driving away evil spirits. ln certain parts of Scotland no one would think of turning cows out to grass for the first time without making them evilspirit proof by tying a piece of scarlet worsted round their tails; it is to be hoped they cannot see it, for we all know what an irritating effect red has on cows. ln New Zealand, after a death the house of the deceased is painted with this color to prevent the entry of demons and bad spirits, and wherever the corpse rested on its journey to the grave, some rock, tree, or stone was colored to protect the departed spirit; the body also was painted red before it was abandoned. At the present day the Chinese carry red cloth in their pockets and braid their children's hair with red silk to protect them from evil spirits.


A Dictionary of English Literature, by M. Croben, is published- in the pretty little Miniature Reference Library (E. P. Dutton & Co.). The work of selection and compression in preparing this tiny handbook is surprisingly well done.

Two volumes of Mark Pattlson's Essays appear in the New Universal Library (E. P. Dutton & Co.). They are upon historical, literary and religious subjects, and are thoughtful and somewhat recondite. lt is a pity that the exigencies of space made it necessary to present them, in this edition, with a page which exacts so much of the reader's eyesight.

"The Millers and Their New Home," by Mrs. Clara Dillingham Pierson, is the fourth volume of the series in which the adventures and experiences of the three little Miller children are described. The author has learned the way to the hearts of children through the best possible school, the care of children in her own home; and she writes accordingly with a naturainess, simplicity and interest which appeal strongly to young readers. The little book is prettily illustrated. E. P. Duttou & Co.

Mr. Arthur J. Eddy's "Ganton & Co." is a study of Chicago morals and manners of such a temper as would have infuriated the Windy City in the days when "The Cliff Dwellers" was written, although when compared with a certain recent notorious composition it seems moderate. The king of the packers and his sons; the entire subordination of the men constituting the machinery of a modern industry; the behavior of women intent upon being conspicuous in public places and at private entertainments, the inevita

ble ruin of the speculator, and the corrupt practices of those labor leaders who originate and terminate strikes at the convenience of employers are the principal subjects as to which the author desires to disturb the prevailing American self-complacency. He writes with sufficient force to effect his object as far as ordinary readers are concerned, and produces an interesting book. A. C. McClurg & Co.

The last Victorian war and the contemplation of English society in the reign of the first of the Coburgs seem to have changed Miss Marie Corelli's early ambition to blend the literary traits of Ouida and the author of "The Prince of the House of David" into a genuine desire to correct evil practices and to neutralize or destroy evil influences, and her later novels are missionary efforts. Her newest book, "Holy Orders," although by far too despondent in tone, inasmuch as it entirely overlooks the great improvement in the drinking habits of Englishmen since King George's glorious days, is a powerful ally for the leaders of the total abstinence movement, and as such will doubtless be duly valued. The hero is an Anglican clergyman, and it is through his sermons, given at length, that Miss Corelli sends her message to her readers. They alternate with melodramatic incidents, one of which, an evil woman's fatal balloon voyage, is undeniably original and well imagined. As a story, the novel has merit, although it is often verbose; and the social and political lessons of which it is the vehicle will not be ineffectual although destructive of its artistic value. To this any reader of insight will perceive that the author is profoundly indifferent, and he will lay the book aside trusting that it will in some measure accomplish her purpose. Frederick A. Stokes Company.

Although Rev. M. R. J. Campbell's religious opinions, or rather his denials of religious opinion have not yet greatly disturbed Americans, still, as every English aberration of thought, scientific, literary or religious, invariably finds a reflection, less or more distorted, in American thought, it is hardly to be supposed that the present subject of popular discussion in England will be an exception. As a Congregatioualist, Mr. Campbell occupies a position of less importance in his own country than might be his in the United States; but the secular newspapers have given him so much notoriety that any reader dependent entirely upon them for knowledge might well suppose that both the English church and the English creed were in danger of destruction and extinction. Those who find this prospect disagreeable may discover its fallaciousness by reading Mr. Hakllug Egertou's two papers "Liberal Theology" and "The Ground of Faith," now brought together in one volume, to which the former paper gives the title. To summarize either Mr. Campbell's body of unbelief or Mr. Egerton's learned technical essays, is to risk adding one more element of error to a conflict already abounding in misconception, but from the latter one may drag the suggestion of meeting those intent on discussing "Campbellism" with a lofty "Don't you think it is slightly tainted with Hegelian ideas?" That will disperse their battalions into thin air. Persons really pained and disturbed by Mr. Campbell will find relief in Mr. Egerton's confident, and argued argument. The Macmillan Co.

John Hill Burton's "The Book Hunter" was written for all those friends of books whose names he enumerates, following Disraeli, who followed Rives, and Peignot, who accepted

Rives's "bibliognost?, bibliograpbe, bibliomane, bibliophile, and bibliotaphe." and added bibliologue. and bibliotacte, and also bibliolyte, a destroyer of books. For himself, Burton preferred the name of book-hunter, and divided his class into private prowlers and auction-haunters, and in the four sections, ot his book he described the book-hunter's "Nature" and "Functions," "His Club," and "Book Club Literature."

Now the man to whom books are more than his fellow creatures necessarily stands somewhat apart from them, is in their eyes, eccentric, odd, "queer," he manifests his peculiar taste, and a book about him must abound in matter amusing to the average commonplace mind. He may be learned, wise, a master of style, or a man of the world, or a miracle of political wisdom, but stories of his relation to books bring a smile to all faces. Even to himself he is matter for mirth when he reflects upon his extravagances, although shrewdly conscious that true literature and the diffusion of literature are deeply indebted to him for producing those financial conditions in which money circulates freely in the trade. He sees himself much as others see him, but respects himself thoroughly. Burton wrote the delightful English of that last century period preceding the days in which critics innocent of classical learning corrupted the popular mind with theories as to the superiority of twenty-nine successive monosyllables to the most melodious and rhythmical array of polysyllables and declared themselves to be the prophets of simplicity. No word is too good for him and no care in arrangement is too trivial, and, not only his anecdotes but their wording remains long in the mind, and this book which now appears in the "London Library" at an agreeably reduced price is a treasure to the lover of good words and good stories E. P. Dutton & Co.

l'I£7x£i'.""} No- 3354 October 17, 1908. {%0ovcollx!wo

I. Women and the Suffrage: A Reply. By Eva Gore-Booth

Nineteenth Century And After 131 II. Salomon Gessner and the Alps. By J. H. Yoxall, M.P.

Cornhill Magazine 140

III. Mard> -on-the-Hill. Chapter III. By M. E.Francis (Mrs. Francis

Blundell) (To be continued) Times 149

IV. The Turkish Revolution. By Alfred de Bilinski (late Tvrkish

Chargi d'Affaires in Washington.) (Concluded.) ....

Nineteenth Century And After 154 V. A Difference of Fifteen Years. By Rosamund Langbridge

London Magazine 161 VI. Sixty Years In the Wilderness: Some Passages by the Way.

By Henry W. Lucy. (To be continued.) Cornhill Magazine 165 VII. Fair Play for Japan. By W. T. B. Preston National Review 178

VIII. The Pleasures of Re-Reading Spectator 185

IX. Fifty Years of Evolution Nation 187


X. Starlight Distllleth. By Herbert Trench .... Nation 130

XI. In Time of Mourning. By A.T Academy 130

XII. A Welsh Lyric After "Celriog." By Alfred Perceval Graves

Athkn^eum 130


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Tree by tree fllleth.

What do they sigh at? Field by field thrllleth,

Low comes the fiat: "Let him that willett,

Cease from his riot. Starlight distilleth;

Do th6u be quiet!

Night the tremendous
Grasps thee and veils thee,

Slow thy stupendous
Intelligence fails thee.

I, the star-crowded,
Outsoar and outsink thee;

No more care-clouded

Need'st thou bethink thee!

Let my primordial

Stupor that seizes Cure, with the cordial

For all thy diseases . . ."

Tree by tree thrilleth

What do they sigh att Sleep the soul filleth,

Man no more willeth, Starlight distilleth;

All earth is quiet.

Herbert Trench.

You live in deeds, not in our vain regrets, And life at most is for a little while'.

The Academy. A. T.


If you might break the silence of the tomb, You would not crave an increase of my tears, Nor bid me draw the curtains of my room Nor count once more the tale of vanished years.

The love of lost ones breathes in our desires. it is not hidden in the cloistered heart, There to be quenched by Time's consuming fires When we have wept and played the mourner's part.

If I march forward when the dark besets, You, watching from your prison house, will smile,

When i (Air.



Hobed o Hilton.")

When I was a sheep-boy in Hafod-y

Rhyd, In hayfleld and cornfield my flock

chewed the cud; While blissfully dreaming at noon we

would lie Under ash-tree or beech-tree, my collie and I! Nothing I view now. Nothing I do now. Dims the glowing fancies Caught by childhood's glances Fresh from the rays That color with enchantment Those long summer days.

At home of an evening my heart's one desire
Was for cutting and carving before the red fire.
While Nesta's four needles, my moth-
er's flax wheel,
Kept time to the cadence our voices
would peal.

No new affection
Dulls that recollection;
Still on wings of longing
Loving thoughts go thronging
Home to that hearth.
The dearest and sincerest
And warmest on earth.

The swallows that autumn whirls out of the West
With springtime, sweet springtime, flut-
ter home to their nest;
But Cymru's poor exiles a lifetime may roam.
And only in fancy fly back to their
Woes in black bevy
Turn our hearts heavy,
Yet in life's December
Still will we remember.
Smiling in sight.
By sun-shine or moon-shine.
Our cottage lime-white!

Alfred Perceval Graves. Tbe Athemram.

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