As, being an American, he would no doubt have put it queer home of Helen, the friend with whom Rose goes to himself, you have got to hand it to Major Sidney Vandyke. stay, and its artful and crafty mixture of MORRIS wallHe certainly hit on one of the most ingenious dodges for papers, meetings for working men, sage-green gowns and getting rid of a rival in love, and at the same time putting movements generally. I should explain that the date of himself ace-high (as he would also have expressed it) with the story is given as thirty years ago; and from this I am the loved one, that I have ever encountered in fiction. forced to believe that the designer of the attractive wrapper There was trouble between the United States and Mexico. of the volume has been somewhat led astray by the title. American guns were at El Paso, Texas, their muzzles We were undoubtedly "Victorians" thirty years ago, but pointing across the Rio Grande, ready for trouble if it with all the vehemence of the middle-ageing I must protest should come. The situation was tense and a single injudi- against the suggestion that we came within the era of cious act would precipitate war. In command of these crinolines and ringlets. However, let it pass. The book has guns was Major Vandyke; under him his rival, Captain its own charm and interest as a minute analysis of young Eagleston March. The Major sent the Captain an order womanhood, and the author has built up in Rose a to fire the guns. No sooner was it done than he appeared, character sufficiently attractive for us to bear the prospect raging; denied having ever given the order, and made a of further revelations with equanimity. spectacular dash across the river to soothe the Mexicans by explaining that it was all a mistake. Major Vandyke was thus

No doubt it was because Mr. F. FRANKFORT MOORE

a hero who had averted war. Captain March was either admired (as we all do) the wonderful and self-sacrificing a knave or a fool who had nearly caused it. He was work performed since the War started by our amateur dismissed the Service, and Lady Diana O'Malley married the Major. That is the kernel of Secret History (METHUEN), the new novel by C. N. and A. M. WILLIAMSON, which starts with imitation war in Mexico and ends with real war in Belgium, where Captain March, as Monsieur Mars the airman, retrieves his reputation. Told racily in the first person by Lady Peggy O'Malley, the very lovable halfsister of the beautiful but shallow Diana, it moves with the dash and speed that one expects in a WILLIAMSON story. It is certainly one of the best, if not the best, of the long list of their collaborations. It differs from most of the others in having no motor-car interest. There was just one critical point at which I could see the authors wavering, when Peggy's party started off for a motor trip to California. It must have required resolution on their part to keep themselves from abandoning the plot in favour of a description of the tour, but they resisted it. The trip takes place off the stage, and the story moves on without it.

nurses that he set out to write a book that should commemorate some of their difficulties and triumphs. He may conceivably have been influenced by the consideration that as everyone is more or less concerned with nursing nowadays there would be a safe welcome for a volume about it. So far excellent. But I am sorry that he decided to produce it in the form of fiction. Because my honest impression of The Romance of a Red Cross Hospital (HUTCHINSON) is that, while the hospital part is interesting enough, the romance is boresome to a degree. As a story also it contains certain features that, to say the least, leave me unconvinced. The first of these is the attitude of the hero, who, having been told by two doctors that he had an enlarged heart, let concealment of this blameless fact prey on his damask cheek because he "shrank from the stigma of rejection through being medically unfit"; and then was furious with all the other characters for the excusable suspicion that he was shirking. Frankly, I find myself as little able to admire as to believe It was bound to happen. I knew that with so many of in him. Naturally, however, the laws of fiction require our male novelists producing vast volumes about the life, that he shall eventually perform prodigies of valour. the whole life, and nothing but the life of their heroes, we Indeed the Red Cross Hospital is founded to his memory, should not have to wait much longer for a companion after he has been supposed to have perished in rescuing feminine picture. Well, now Miss NETTA SYRETT has people from a shipwreck. As a matter of fact he hadn't done it, or perhaps I should more correctly say begun it, perished at all; but that is another story. My second since on the last page of The Victorians (FISHER UNWIN) charge of incredibility against Mr. MOORE is based on she hints darkly that "the story of Rose Cottingham is to be continued in the near future." So far as the present volume takes us, we get Rose through infancy and schooldays more than two hundred pages about themto the period of her first proposal and the publication of her first book. It is all rather well done, with observation and the kind of truth that one cannot help feeling springs from personal experience. Especially is this the case "To GENTLEMEN.-Advertiser (refined) desires acquaintance with with the picture of Minerva House and its dominating motor car."-Western Morning News.

Instructor (to novice practising the call to dinner). "You've
GOT THE NOTES ALL RIGHT, AND YOUR TIME ISN'T BAD; BUT
YOU DON'T PUT THE RIGHT FEELING INTO IT. THERE'S NO
NEED TO SUGGEST COMPULSION."

the fact that he makes an educated woman of to-day suppose the "theatre" of a hospital to be a building for the production of plays. Name, please!

Diner de guerre means guère de diner; or, in English, warfare means war-fare.

mistress, the "awe-inspiring little woman" whose "efforts We could introduce him to a ROLLS-ROYCE, in slightly had revolutionized the whole system of education for girls." reduced circumstances, yet quite affable; but he might There seems a recognizable portrait here. Good too is the prefer something humbler and more chatty.

giving its decision, is endeavouring to he is glad to see that the visit of the
ascertain whether the proposal eman- Bishops to the Grand Fleet is having
ated from thirsty wives or parsimonious its effect, as he has lately heard of
husbands.
several converted cruisers.

**

The popular novelist who in conse- Here is a pendant to our recent story quence of over-indulgence in golf has of the polite sergeant :-A British shell had to have one of his ribs removed, is had just landed in our own trench comforting himself with the reflection without bursting. Two minutes later a that his literary style may thereby be corporal with the offending shell under improved. Every Sunday-school boy his arm presented himself to the knows of a case where an operation of Artillery Forward Observing Officer: this kind was immediately followed by Excuse me, Sir. With the Sergeant's a striking development of the feminine compliments: he thought you might interest. like to fire it over again."

66

**

Herr BALLIN, who was recently informed by the KAISER that German merchant shipping could continue in Under the new lighting regulations Moved by a statement in a Foreign the future to count upon "my especial the local authorities in Kent have Office report that there has been a large interest and my Imperial protection," decreed that at night-time perambula- increase in the export of eggs from would have preferred a phrase contain-tors must carry rear-lights. It was Italy, a correspondent suggests a motto ing more U's and fewer

Giving evidence about a dog, a witness at West Ham said, "He goes behind children, bites their legs, and walks on; no noise, no nothing." These West Ham youngsters must be included among our silent heroes.

thought at first that hooters would also
be necessary, but it has now been
decided that sufficient warning will be
given if, when a collision is imminent,
the nurse pinches the baby.

for Italian hens:

I will lay on for Tusculum,
And lay thou on for Rome!

**

In order to obtain copper for war purposes the municipality of Kiel has ordered that local cable tram-lines in the less busy parts of the city shall be broken up. The inhabitants have suggested that there are several apparently useless warships in the immediate neighbourhood which would supply a larger amount of metal with less inconvenience to the public.

The author who advertises that he will be pleased to supply three copies of his new novel, together with 500 cigarettes, to any Service hospital that applies for them, is surprised at the number of secretaries who have written to ask whether it is absolutely necessary to accept the offer en bloc. He had no idea there were so many nonsmokers in the Army.

**

The number of Censors employed at the Press Bureau being exactly forty, and their minute knowledge of English literature having been displayed on In an appreciation of "W. G." by several occasions, Sir JOHN SIMON is Sir ARTHUR CONAN DOYLE we read :It is feared that the "No treating" contemplating their incorporation as "When he was well on towards his regulation may lead to an increase of an Academy. They will be known as sixtieth year, I have seen him standing wife-beating among persons of an "The Immortals-for the duration of up to LOCKWOOD when man after man

**

economical turn of mind, for, as one the War."
Scotch labourer said to another, "If I
treat my wife I'm fined £100, but if I
ill-treat her I get off for 5s."

*

was helpless at the other wicket." This is perhaps hardly just to the other

In the debate on the War-profits batsmen. What could they do while tax Mr. MCKENNA said that "nobody "the old man" had the bowling? Or would propose a tax of this kind as a are we to infer that, contrary to the It is stated that representatives of permanent part of our fiscal system." laws, LOCKWOOD was bowling at both working-men's clubs are discussing We hope this may be taken as an ends? with the Board of Liquor Control a indication that in the opinion of the proposal that members' wives should Government the War is not going on be made honorary members in order for ever. that they may be able to pay for their own refreshments. The Board, before

VOL. CXLIX.

Lady pinning a flag on an Australian back from the front."-Morning Paper. It sounds difficult as well as painful,

A clerical correspondent writes that but presumably she used a hat-pin.

T

HOW TO REVIEW WAR POETRY. (With acknowledgments to "The Times' Literary Supplement.")

THERE are abundant reasons, obvious enough to the critical faculty, why very little of the verse occasioned by the War is likely to survive. In the first place, poetry for its production demands a state of mind removed from all immediate pressure and excitement. This accounts for the failure of TYRTEUS, of all the poets of the great Elizabethan age of adventure, of ROUGET DE LISLE, who wrote the Marseillaise. Just now it is almost impossible to enjoy that perfect calm, that indifference to one's environment, which is the very breath of all great poetry. The noblest of all lines ever written about Victory-the concluding lines of MILTON'S Samson Agonistes-were composed some time after the tragic death of the veteran anti-Philistine.

It is the same with the passion of Love, which bears a close resemblance to War, all things being fair in each. Poetry, as WORDSWORTH said, is emotion remembered in tranquillity. If the expression of the sentiments uttered under stress of immediate emotion in MICHAEL DRAYTON'S passionate sonnet

"Since there's no help, come let us kiss and part—” had been postponed to a period of subsequent tranquillity, he would have made a much better job of it. And so, when Peace returns, as we hope it may some day, we shall look for a revival of pure song. The Palace of the Hague should be a veritable aviary.

It should further be remarked that the fact that everybody is thinking the same thing at the same time constitutes a fatal difficulty for our War-Laureates. If an obscure friend of the poet dies peacefully of a zymotic disease, the theme may well furnish him with a genuine inspiration; but if a distinguished General falls gloriously on the field of honour, or some national hero is borne to his last restingplace in St. Paul's or the Abbey, any memorial tribute that the poet may write is bound to be insincere because it gives form to a sense of loss that is universal. That, of course, was the trouble with TENNYSON'S "Ode on the Death of Wellington."

Finally, we would say to our poets: Do not yield to the very natural temptation to give expression to those emotions of the common heart that cry for articulate utterance. Just write from yourselves and to yourselves. Distinguish between singing because you must, and going out of your way to find something to sing about. Do not go out of your way just because the War is there. Do not change in a world of change. Keep on steadfastly in the old way, like the Racing News in another column. For so, however long we others may have to wait for Peace, you will know even now the true peace that can only be found in artistic detachment. O. S.

PAMBI.

(An Oriental Seaport.)

Now all you gay young fellows, who fight so bold and free
And grouse at things in the trenches, hark to a Man of the
Sea;

"R.N.R." comes after my name, and what do you think
I do ?

Port Officer of Pambi, with fever from ten to two.

Another source of weakness in our War poetry lies in the fact that the poet does not speak from his own heart (“By thine own tears thy song must tears beget "), but as the accredited mouthpiece of the nation. The War may or may not have touched him personally-we will generously admit that we have known cases, even among poets, of personal grief and personal patriotism induced by the A million miles of red-hot sand and a hundred yards of War-but as a general rule the writer has been weighed down by a sense of responsibility to the State, of the claim And mosquitoes as thick as the German guns getting you made upon him to speak for England. WORDSWORTH Was suffering from the same unfortunate obsession when he That is the country of Pambi, and never a soul to see, And I'm the sanctified Officer, with fever from nine till three.

wrote-

"Milton! thou shouldst be living at this hour;
England hath need of thee!"

Egotism, which is the essence of true poetry, should never be
merged in the choric "we," sacred to editors and crowned
heads. What poet ever wrote in the first person plural?
One has not forgotten MATTHEW ARNOLD'S lines:-

"We, in some unknown Power's employ,
Move on a rigorous line;

Can neither, when we will, enjoy,
Nor, when we will, resign";

but one cannot recall any other authoritative case of this assumption of plurality by a recognised English poet.

Again, how can a poet write about things he has not seen, even if by an effort of will he persuades himself that he has felt them? Sincerity is only possible when it is the outcome of experience. It is no good for a thing just to happen; it must happen to the poet himself. When WALT WHITMAN wrote that most moving of all War poems, his dirge for two veterans

"O strong dead-march, you please me.

every time,

Port Officer of Pambi, with fever from eight till five?"

It has its points, for I never shave and I need no clothes or boots;

I

worry along by the grace of God and the blessing of cheap cheroots;

But, if you fellows are fed with your job and want an exchange all right!

Here is the Port of Pambi and fever from morn till night.

You get the glory, and so you should, for it's you who carry the brunt,

But there's many a man in Pambi who 'll never get near the Front,

And so, when you 're feeling a bit depressed, please open your mouths and sing,

Flanders is bad, but Pambi's worse," and so-God save the KING!

O moon immense, with your silvery face, you soothe me"he must with his own ears have heard the actual music; he must with his own eyes have seen the moon in question." But how many of our War poems have been written at the Front? If SHAKSPEARE had been in a position to assist at the Battle of Agincourt, he might have written more "As the Italian humourist remarked of another story: Si mon worthily of St. Crispin's Day. As it was he had to falle Verdi, e bene Trovatore!'"'-Evening Paper. back upon his imagination, that last resort of insincerity. Eh, mon! Yer Italian sounds varra Scotch!