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the greater part of their social news, with this emotional, ill-judged partiand would be a little less unscrupulous sanship; and, under the same influin gratifying their owner's private ence, their messages are smothered by spites, their home columns would leave the sub-editor under "scare" headlines little to be desired by people who were whose irresponsible absurdity is not not too particular about the English yet understood on the Continent. Relanguage. The influence of their for- bukes, entreaties, threats and promeign news and opinions both at home ises of every description are lavished and abroad, during some crisis and in by those in authority on such occasions the process of manufacturing the to prevent the "yellow" proprietor crisis, is, however, wholly unfortunate. making a fool of himself; but I have The proprietor, usually a man of ut- never yet known these to have the terly unbalanced judgmentignorant slightest effect. Fortunately it is only observation and violent prejudices, in- rarely that the sensational journalist sists upon his point of view being of this description is able to "let himadopted and explained day after day self go"; but when some such foreign in the brief, forcible language of true crisis arises the saner press of this sensation; special correspondents are country ought to address its erring sent out to certain foreign ceremonies brethren in very emphatic language. or serious political conferences, tinged

Edward H. Cooper. The Saturday Review.

BOOKS AND AUTHORS

Samuel G. Blythe's “We Have With and you do not know what insects Us Tonight" (Henry Altemus Com- are," and then, for the promotion of pany) is a clever skit which hits off humility, he would betray them into the various types of bores who suc- definitions that would classify half the ceed one another as after dinner animal kingdom as insects, and then speakers at public banquets. Every would lay before them a set of charone has heard them,—the confused acteristics apparently denoting a feroand ineffective toastmaster, the turgid cious monster, and show them that the orator, the flamboyant poet, the creature possessing them was nearly highly informing speaker who reads microscopic. The world is not so very his address from acres of manuscript, much wiser to-day, in spite of newsthe professional raconteur, the man paper entomology and the reports of who makes a blunder in telling what various slaughtering commissions, and should have been a funny story and the information in Dr. John B. Smith's waits flushed and expectant for the "Our Insect Friends and Enemies" is laugh which fails to come-these all needed by the Audubon Societies, the are tedious enough

en- seeker for a home site, the housekeeper, counters them in the flesh, but as the gardener, the farmer, the traveller, they move in procession through Mr. and numberless other folk. It has a Blythe's pages they

certainly colored frontispiece showing some fouramusing.

teen unfriendly creatures; and also a

great number of good pictures in black "Young gentlemen," a celebrated nat- and white, and its twelve chapters are uralist was wont to say to his classes, admirably arranged for consultation "you do not know what an insect is besides being well-indexed. Insects

as

one

are

are considered in relation to the animal kingdom; to plants as benefactors and as destroyers; to one another; to particular animals; to man, both in their beneficent aspects, and as carriers of disease, and to the farmer and fruit grower, and a whole chapter is given to the war on insects. The style strikes the happy medium between the strictly scientific and the over-simple, and the volume may be read with pleasure by an intelligent High School pupil, but it is intended not for amusement but for instruction. It is more valuable than most books intended to cover the same field, because its chapters on insects in their relations to other creatures, ani. mal and vegetable, awaken the uninstructed mind to the truth set forth in the preface that nothing exists to, for, or by itself alone. The first glimpse of this principle is often marvellously enlightening. J. B. Lippincott Co.

fairly, showing the little ones as anxious to begin to earn money, and afterwards eager rivals, and she does not forget to show that the parents inflict no hardship more severe than that forming part of their own daily lot. The added oppression of overcharges for food and clothing material, and the deadly, murderous wrong of machinery unfurnished with the protective apparatus required by the law are also adequately and effectively set forth, and it is to be hoped that the book will be read in Alabama. Also, it is to be hoped that critics of other states will not wax too Pharisaical when contemplating the picture. New England boards of inspection sometimes find it necessary to hold both manufacturers and parents to weekly reports of school attendance. It is said that the author's sympathies are so strongly engaged in behalf of the mill children that her book was primarily undertaken in their interest, but she has so steadfastly resisted the temptation to produce a tract in their behalf, that the mill-owner and his wife, and not the mill-hands occupy the centre of the picture, and next them stands a pair of typical modern American lovers, both profoundly resolved to reconstruct their environment, and hardly sensible of the approach of Eros as he comes bringing sheaves of reports and a quiver full of impressive circulars. Thus has she made sure of readers, and of the wide presentation of her problem, and thus has she made an artistic novel. “Truth Dexter" was successful because it was based upon a plot of which women never tire: “Red Horse Hill" will succeed because it has so blended four distinct threads of interest that it will almost equally attract those who dispute of divorce, of child labor, of the mission of woman, with a capital letter, and of a minister's duty to speak the plain truth to wealthy sinners. Little, Brown & Co.

Sidney McCall's fourth essay in fiction, “Red Horse Hill" evades comparison with either of the two types represented in its author's earlier work, and enters a field in which little has been attempted in this country. Hitherto, such juvenile victims of the curse of Eden as have appeared in American novels have been slaves, or have labored for sweaters of their own foreigu nationalities, but those who toil in the Regina cotton mill in Sidon, Alabama, are free born Americans, and Sidney McCall so describes them that reader of hers is likely soon to forget the poor young creatures, transformed by the exigencies of their daily labor into nervous, restless-eyed, wiry little elves, with fingers cramped to catch the flying threads, voices shrilled to rise above the clatter of machinery, minds narrowed and shrivelled by lifelong starvation, souls stained by encounter with coarse and vicious elders. Nevertheless she treats her subject

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With the accession of the House of ridge and Thackeray. Indeed, it difCoburg, English-speaking or rather' fers so much that there is danger that English writing man is haunted by a the reader of even ordinary carelessshrinking, tremulous dread that he ness may fancy that Mr. Cross is but may be called too severe in his moral- that common gentleman with the whiteity, too tenacious in his grasp upon the wash brush whose labors have proprieties. Not yet does he hesitate changed the aspect of many statues to be comfortably sober and decent, but in the hall of fame. He is nothing of it pains him to consider the possibil- the sort, but merely the post-Victorian ity of being accused of scruples, or of man with the post-Victorian dislike of principles, and the thought of being apparent narrowness and with new suspected of requiring scruples or prin- knowledge. He refuses to judge ciples in any other person, from a small Sterne as anything but what he was; street boy to a large capitalist racks to condemn him for not being other him with unspeakable pangs. Conse- than he was; to forget that in spite of quently, only a newspaper here and certain reckless sins against cleanli. there, contradictorily condemned by its ness of speech and thought he was delifellows as "yellow" or priggish speaks cately kind to his inferiors; patient with otherwise than gently or sweetly, and those dependent upon him; a faithful the inordinate urbanity of which Mere. friend when no jest was toward, and dith complained increases daily. It above all no worse than his time. In would be easy to find an instance in all this, there is a curious absence of the history of the last month, but in warmth and charity. Professor Cross new literature nothing is more signifi- is determined not to be narrow, but cant than Professor Wilbur L. Cross's

he makes no pretence at affection for “Life and Times of Laurence Sterne." his subject, and considering his coldIt is not many years since Sterne's ness, the impression which he leaves name might have been sought in vain

upon

the reader is evidence of in school manuals of English literature, the possession of a very strong sense although the story of Le Fevre of justice. Scott, although nearer to figures in many a “Reader” and certain Sterne as far as the chronological taShandean proverbs are in the mouths bles are concerned, was more remote of the most prim. Even now the in spirit, and although he saw both the chief source of opinion in spite of humor and the pathos of Sterne, dislater more pretentious biographies bas liked him. Mr. Fitzgerald presents been Thackeray's lecture on Sterne and

him in so many aspects that a blurred Goldsmith, and had Sterne been fash

composite photograph is definite comioned for no other purpose than to be pared to the general picture. Professor the man of genius whom Thackeray Cross offers a new glass, carefully would loathe and detest with his entire polished, delicately adjusted, and inheart, soul, and commonsense, he would

vites examination of a newly mounted have been precisely what he was, as specimen carefully cleared of extrane. far as Thackeray knew. Professor

ous matter. Those who accept his offer Cross has found some new material, will find theinselves both entertained has detected many fairly astounding and enlightened, and they will not be forgeries, and the figure for which he disgusted by the too common post-l'icasks tolerance and a certain measure of torian exhortation to tolerance of evil admiration differs in many details from when it is the comrade of genius. that visible to the imagination of Cole- The Macmillan Co.

No. 3394 July 24, 1909.

CONTENTS

SEVENTH SERIES
VOLUME XLIV.

11.

1. Shakespeare and the Modern German Stage. By Eulenspiegel
CONTEMPORARY REVIEW 195
A Day in a Game Reserve. By J. Stevenson-Hamilton
BLACK WOOD'S MAGAZINE 203
Hardy-on-the-Hill Book II. Chapter III. By M. E. Francis (Mrs.
Francis Blundell). (To be continued.)
The Disciple of Destiny. By Wilfred S.

TIMES 215

Durrant

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IV.

V. vl.

VII. VIII.

IX.

x.

XI. XII.

XIII. Meeting Again.

XIV.

Religion and Conduct. By Sidney Low

FROM BEGINNING
VOL. CCLXII.

A PAGE OF VERSE

FORTNIGHTLY REVIEW 221

The Fog. By H. M. Tomlinson

ENGLISH REVIEW 227

The Lord of the Pigeons. By Howard Ashton. (To be concluded.)
Chapters IV, V and VI.
PALL MALL MAGAZINE
The Consolations of Science.
A Week-End in the Country.
The Armed Peace in Europe.
Vandalism in Paris.

A Doubtful Affair.

Admiral Blake. By D. K. Broster
BOOKS AND AUTHORS

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230

NATION 236

PUNCH 239 ECONOMIST 241

SATURDAY REVIEW 244

ACADEMY 246 NATION 249 SPECTATOR

252

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PUBLISHED EVERY SATURDAY BY

THE LIVING AGE COMPANY,

6 BEACON STREET, BOSTON.

TERMS OF SUBSCRIPTION.

FOR SIX DOLLARS, remitted directly to the Publishers, THE LIVING AGE will be punctually forwarded for a year, free of postage, to any part of the United States. To Canada the postage is 50 cents per annum.

Remittances should be made by bank draft or check, or by post-office or express money order if possible. If neither of these can be procured, the money should be sent in a registered letter. All postmasters are obliged to register letters when requested to do so. Drafts, checks, express and money orders should be made payable to the order of THE LIVING AGE Co.

Single Copies of THE LIVING AGE, 15 cents.

ADMIRAL BLAKE.

But the pleasant English land ... to . die upon.

Bear away.

we

(August 7th, 1657.) The sixth it was of August, as

opened Lizard Bay, Our Admiral called his Captains where

he lay; And, "Sirs," says he, “the end is come:

I'll sail the seas no more; Yet I pray the Lord to grant me die on shore."

Bear away.
Eleven ships we were, from up the

Straits and from Sallee,
All very foul with being long at se:
And our winter's block of Cadiz; aye,

we sighed for our recall,
And he, a twelvemonth sick, beyond
us all.

Bear away.

Y' bad thought the Lord had hearkened

us, so lusty did we pray, While our ship from off her forefoot

tossed the spray; And with every stitch a-drawing, at

seven knots or more, We came in press of sail to Plymouth shore.

Bear away.

Though he drave, at the Canaries,

through Don Diego's battery

smoke, Though on Plymouth Hoe was

naught but cheering folk, Though he saw his own West-coun

try, yet he might not have his

boon -For our Admiral's flag was struck ... an hour too soon.

Bear away.

'Twas not a score of weeks agone, in

Santa Cruz her bay, We sank the Spanish galleons where

they lay: All the treasure-ships of Spain, they

are fired or run ashore, .-But our Admiral shall hear a gun no more.

Bear away. "I am like to pass before we make

the Downs, methinks,” he said. "Let my course be laid for land ere

I be sped. ... Give ye God-speed ... and see

ye put his Highness in a mind To have a care for them we left be. hind."

Bear ancay.

Much pomp there was and stateliness

upon his funeral day, Guns a-firing from the Tower all the

way; Up the river then to Westminster, witb

many barges more, As he led the line in fight, he went before..

Bear away.

Yet better liked it seamen had he

fared less solemnly, And been buried in his hammock out

at sea; Since the Lord He could not graut

that valiant soul his last demand He had best 'a' kept his body too from land.

Bear away.

So the "George" stood in for Devon,

and red came up the day While she held, with heeling decks,

upon her way. As we cracked on sail for Plymouth,

so we sought the Lord the more That He would grant our Admiral die on shore.

Bear away. And as Blake lay in his cabin, 'twist

the Mewstone and the Rame, He remembered not his victories nor

his fame; Not Tromp nor Teneriffe, not the

Dutchman nor the Don, The Spectator.

For ye shall seek his honored tomb in

the Abbey many a day: Ask royal Charles where he hath flung

that clay! -Aye, mark it, messmates, when ye

think to come and die ashore, Ye be certain of a grave on land no more....

Bear away. D. K. Broster.

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