And then life's cup may not seem filled.

Which does not seem so well.

There is no doubt at all as to the genuine feeling here; the tragedy only happened when the author came within reach of pen and ink. The measure is the ordinary "common metre" of the hymn-books-the measure of "While shepherds watched their flocks by night," of the immortal "St. Agnes' Eve":

Deep on the convent-roof the snows

Are sparkling to the moon:
My breath to heaven like vapor goes:
May my soul follow soon.
Make thou my spirit pure and clear
As are the frosty skies,

Or this first snowdrop of the year
That in my bosom lies.

Yet what leagues of thought, what uncrossed oceans, separate the two!

Much is accounted for, perhaps, by the fact that no critics are at hand to warn the immature rhymster of the error of his ways. Most of his friends have stood round him in open-mouthed astonishment while he reads or exhibits his latest production, staggered at such evidence of genius in unexpected quarters; and when they have recovered their breath, have extolled him to the The Academy.

uttermost extent of a limited vocabulary until he hears the wavelets of the sea of fame already lapping round his feet. They have gurgled, "It's lovely!" -which is not true; they have said, "It's simply wonderful how you can do it!"-which is strictly true, though not in the sense in which the words are spoken. But in no way are such expressions of opinion judgments or criticisms of the remotest value. Nor does the broken-winged flutterer gain any knowledge when, as frequently happens (alas, how well we know it!), he submits his efforts to the chilly editorial glance; for editors have no time to criticize rejected manuscripts. Thus he goes on writing, his friends go on admiring, and occasionally the "poems" are printed-at his own expense.

There is no remedy for this; for human nature, strongly moved, is bound to express itself somehow. The blame must be laid upon those exquisite goddesses of song whose beauty first tempted others to don the mask and essay the same glorious deeds. But if, reproaching the immortal Spurious Muse for her hapless, prosaic ways, we discover in her some faint glimmer of the true poetic flame, it is matter for a notable thanksgiving.

Wilfrid L. Randell.

"Much Ado About Nothing," edited by Professor William W. Lawrence of Columbia University and "The Tragedy of King Lear," edited by Dr. Virginia C. Gildersleeve, Dean of Barnard College, are the latest additions to the pretty Tudor Shakespeare. (The Macmillan Co.) Each is furnished with an Introduction, notes, glossary and a list of textual variants. The volumes in this charming edition have followed each other so rapidly that the series is

now nearly one half advanced toward completion.

When an insignificant-appearing but deadly German swordsman is gratuitously insulted in the year 1643 by a young Englishman, and the young Englishman's little sister hotheadedly starts off, in a suit of her fiancé's clothes, to dissuade the German from killing her brother, you have a situation that promises well for an adven

turesome and romantic novel. What further develops in the course of the story of "The Fighting Blade," by Beulah Marie Dix, is told with a spirit and dramatic control that hold the reader completely. One finds, moreover, not only the charm of adventure but firm character drawing and a vivid realism characteristic of the author's work. The book is in many respects a grimly accurate transcript of life in seventeenth century England, but it is perhaps by contrast the more joyous a tale for that. Henry Holt & Co.

In "Alexander's Bridge," her first novel, Willa S. Cather has given the world an exceedingly finished piece of work, and a story which haunts the memory. Bartley Alexander was a builder of bridges and a man of power. He was one of those men who are destined to hear two distinct and separate calls in their lives, and to be forever uncertain which of two paths they should have taken. The situation is treated with subtlety, in a manner at the same time restrained and penetrating.

The descriptions of Alexander's home in Boston and the London of his visits remind one of fine engravings and possess a charming atmosphere. It is unusual to find a book with so vital and intense a theme, handled with such refinement and distinction. Struggle and tragedy are always near the surface, but there is no hint of sordidness, and the pathos is never unrestrained. The story does not startle the reader into new lanes of thought, but awakens him gradually to the consciousness of a new possession. Houghton Mifflin Company.

Charles Major has written another historical novel, "The Touchstone of Fortune," full of the same romantic swing and vigor which characterized his earlier work. The time of the story is the reign of Charles II., and most of the scenes are at Whitehall

Court. Frances Jennings is the beautiful young heroine, in love with an untitled gentleman of depleted fortune, who, for her sake, reforms his way of living, and becomes an active enemy of Charles. She comes to Whitehall as Maid of Honor, in order to make a wealthy marriage, and save the fortunes of her family. How she resists the corruptions of the court life, is a party to the sale of Dunkirk by King Charles, and succeeds in marrying the man of her choice, is related in the person of her cousin, Baron Clyde. latter gentleman also withstands most of the contamination of court circles, and marries below his station, wholly for love. Were it not for the liveliness of style, and a certain charm of character drawing, the book would lack interest, for the loose moral standards of the time make a setting which is far from attractive. Macmillan Co.

The

After many years upon the lecture platform Garrett P. Serviss has given to the world his experience as an aid to beginners in that or kindred professions. He calls his book "Eloquence" and points out rational, clever, and suggestive methods for securing the attention of listeners. With the "feel" of the platform habitue for his audience he breaks up his philosophy and the even flow of his argument with illustrations, attempting to show how to do the trick by showing the trick at work. His selections are a valuable part of the book and are admirably chosen. The author prefers the older style of Webster, of Phillips, of the immortal Greeks, to the familiar and slangy speech of a modern platformspeaker; but his choice of examples is nevertheless catholic in its range. starts with the "Instinct," which is the poet's, goes on to the "Preparation," and the "Practice," adding a chapter of the very best illustrations obtainable. Harper & Bros.

He

The recent proposal, which must be taken as seriously meant, that a Royal Commission should be appointed to inquire into the causes of social and industrial "unrest" is one which, if taken in a limited sense, may be useful; but if its sense is extended beyond limits which are very strict and definite, it is more suited to the atmosphere of one of the political burlesques of Aristophanes than to that of serious politics. As I propose to point out briefly in the following pages, the causes of this un rest are not only various in their details but are also various in their character; and certain of them-and these the most important-are such that, if made the subject of official inquiry of any kind at all, are more fit for the investigations of the confessional or the psychological laboratory than for those of a Parliamentary chairman and a committee of officials and politicians.

That such is the case is made sufficiently evident by facts which are familiar to everyone. Those who propose that the causes of social "unrest" should be subjected to an official inquiry are no doubt thinking primarily of the wage-earning classes of this country, the conditions under which they work and live, and their annual incomes as compared with the cost of living and also with the position of those whose earnings or whose means are larger. Here no doubt are questions into which a Parliamentary inquiry is possible; but social "unrest" is a phenomenon which is not by any means confined to those in whose case it can possibly be attributable to the pressure of economic want, or the anxieties incident to the avoidance of it. Under different forms it betrays itself in the lives of those whose means are far in excess of anything that could possibly be the lot of the majority of the human race under any

social system whatsoever. One of its most remarkable manifestations is the frenzy of the hammer-bearing Maenads, who seek to enter paradise by assault, through the splinters of shopwindows. These women and their leaders for the most part belong to the affluent or comparatively affluent classes. Many of them are rich. Many of them, in addition to riches, enjoy all the advantages of position which are generally the sedatives of discontent. And yet the "unrest" of these persons is in its essentials hardly distinguishable from that of the Welsh rioters who, by way of compelling the coalowners to revise their rates of wages, wrecked the premises of the tradesmen who supplied them with their tobacco and their daily bacon. It is evident, therefore, that the social "unrest" of to-day has other causes behind it in addition to those associated with direct economic pressure. Economic pressure, as experienced by the poorer sections of the community, is one of the causes, and will presently be considered here, when it will be shown that its actual operation as a disturbing element differs widely from the popular conception of it; but those causes shall be considered first which are of a more general kind, and we will begin with one which is affecting all classes alike.

The late Mr. Phelps, for many years American Ambassador in this country, when I was once walking with him on a lonely road in the neighborhood of the Highland Railway, said suddenly after a long silence, "The Devil never found a truer note for his voice than the railway whistle. There it goes, from one end of the country to the other, crying to all the boys and girls, 'Come away, come away, come away.' And when they go, they find the place they have gone to better in no way