Instead of seizing the initiative by surprise, the Allies have had to follow the German lead; and the transport of the large forces necessary to reverse the situation, which is a heavy tax on the already overstrained mercantile marine, can only be effected by numerous trips. It is doubtful whether enough troops will have been assembled to take the offensive before the enemy are ready to attack the position at Salonika, with the object of driving the Allied force into the sea, or building it in with a steel wall.' It would be undesirable to consider too closely the probable course of the future operations; but they will presumably be based on concerted action with Russian and, possibly, Italian forces, based, respectively, on the Black Sea or the Danube, and the Adriatic. As for the Germans, a defeat in the Near East is probably the thing they are most anxious to avoid; and they may be expected to exert all their energies to avert it, and to secure their position before the spring, when new Russian armies will claim all their attention on the eastern front. The rumours of a great influx of troops into France, which became current about the middle of December, were probably initiated by them with the object of stopping the transfer of French and British troops to Salonika. A German excursion to Mesopotamia, which has also been rumoured, can hardly have been seriously thought of; and, since the set-back experienced by General Townshend after the battle of Ctesiphon on Nov. 22, that region is more likely than ever to be left in the hands of the Turks. Egypt offers a more tempting objective; and, were it not for the Balkan situation, a German contingent might have been expected to take part in the attack for which the Turks have been preparing under German direction. For Egypt-'the neck of the British Empire,' as Bismarck described it-is regarded by Germany as the most vulnerable and vital quarter in which the power of England can be assailed; and its restoration to the Ottoman Empire is supposed to be one of the terms of the alliance with Turkey. According to unofficial statements a railway designed to connect the Haifa branch of the Damascus-Medina line with the Syrian frontier was opened for traffic as far as Beersheba on Aug. 9; and a field railway and a pipeline are being pushed across the desert towards the Suez Canal. With these new facilities, a repetition of the Turkish attack must be looked for, as a diversion to react on the Balkan situation, if for no other reason. The unfortunate turn which affairs have taken in the Balkans has at least had some good results. It has given the Allied Powers an opportunity to combine their forces, hitherto widely separated, for concerted action on the only ground on which they could all meet. The bonds of common interest which bind them together should be strengthened by co-operation in the field. But, what is more important, it appears to have brought home to the Allied Governments the paramount need of acting in closer concert, and of expediting discussions and decisions. One of the chief advantages which the Teutonic Alliance has enjoyed has been the centralisation of the control of operations in the hands of the German General Staff. So long as the Austrian Staff were allowed a free hand things went badly. The possession of interior lines has accentuated this advantage, because it has enabled troops to be moved quickly to any desired region by direct railway routes. Unity of control results in concentration of effort; rapid transport secures the initiative. The consequent economy of force has gone some way towards compensating for disparity of numbers. In the case of the Allies such unity of control is unattainable. It is not possible to confide the supreme control of operations on all the fronts to one Government and one General Staff. Each must necessarily conduct the operations on its own front; and, when combined action by two or more Powers is proposed, those concerned must consult and endeavour to arrive at an agreement. A project which the German General Staff could discuss and decide in a day might conceivably take the Allies a week or more; and even then there might not be complete accord. When a distant operation is decided on, there is the additional delay involved in transporting troops by circuitous sea-routes; and, as in the case of Salonika, it may be impossible to concentrate them in time. The steps recently taken to expedite decisions by arranging joint conferences between the various War Councils or their delegates should cause an improvement; but both in unity of control and quickness of decision the Central Powers must always have the advantage. It is, however, in the matter of foresight and concerted action to meet situations or to seize opportunities which may occur in the future, that the Allied Governments have chiefly failed. Each has been so preoccupied with the situation in its immediate front that the general situation and its probable development have been obscured. To this, combined with a strange blindness to the aims of Germany, has doubtless been due the feeble military action which failed to gain the mastery of the Balkans in the five months during which the Allies had only the Turks to deal with. The magnitude of the issues involved was not appreciated. The naval attack on the Dardanelles was regarded as a sort of by-play-a 'war-gamble,' Mr Churchill called it, 'with stakes which we could afford to lose.' The gamble cost the Allies over 200,000 British casualties (including sick), besides an unknown number of French; while the result left the Germans masters of the Balkans, and in possession of their coveted road to the East-a position from which they will not easily be ousted. In these respects, also, the Allied Governments seem to have recognised their mistakes. Recent changes in the commands and staffs in the West point to the adoption of an altered and enlarged military policy. It appears to have been realised that the end of the war is unlikely to be brought about by a great overwhelming decision on one front, and that it is more likely to result from a series of partial decisions, which should be sought for where the conditions may, for the moment, be most favourable. This broader conception of the nature of present-day warfare will need keener foresight, quicker decision, and a strictersubordination of individual interests than the Allied Governments have hitherto displayed. W. P. BLOOD. Art. 18.-THE PROSE WORKS OF JOSEPH ADDISON. 1. The Works of the Right Honourable Joseph Addison, Esq. London: Printed for Jacob Tonson, at Shakespear's-Head, over-against Katharine-street in the Strand. Four vols. Four vols. MDCCXXI. 2. Essays of Joseph Addison. Chosen and edited with a preface and a few notes by Sir J. G. Frazer. Two vols. London: Macmillan, 1915. 3. The Miscellaneous Works of Joseph Addison. Edited by A. C. Guthkelch (Vol. I, Poems and Plays: Vol. II, Prose). London: G. Bell & Sons, 1914. ADDISON and Swift ought to have changed places. Swift's heart was utterly given to the pursuit of power; as he said in a letter to Pope, all his endeavours from a boy to distinguish himself had been only for want of a great title and fortune, that he might be used like a lord by those who had an opinion of his parts-whether right or wrong was no great matter-and so the reputation of wit or great learning did the office of a blue ribbon or of a coach and six horses. But while Swift was gnawing his fingers in Laracor, or at the Deanery of St Patrick's, Addison, though he had neither birth, nor ambition, nor public eloquence, was passing from one Government post to another, as Commissioner of Appeals, Chief Secretary to the Lord-Lieutenant of Ireland, Commissioner for Trades and Colonies, and Secretary of State. What Swift thought of religion we know from 'A Tale of a Tub.' Addison was the devout man who 'does not only believe, but feels there is a Deity. He has actual sensations of him; his experience concurs with his reason; he sees him more and more in all his intercourses with him, and even in this life almost loses his faith in conviction' ('Spectator,' No. 465). He found his happiness in contemplating the might and goodness of God, and in revealing to others the way to heaven. His exquisite humour, the quiet cadences of his prose, his power to observe and create character, his knowledge of men, were all used in the service of religion. As he wrote in another essay: 'I must confess, were I left to myself, I would rather aim at instructing than diverting. I would not willingly laugh but in order to instruct, or if I sometimes fail in this point, when my mirth ceases to be instructive, it shall never cease to be innocent' ('Spectator,' No. 179). Yet the virtues that he taught were all summed up in one word-prudence: 'There are many more shining qualities in the mind of man, but there is none so useful as Discretion; it is this indeed which gives a value to all the rest, which sets them at work in their proper times and places, and turns them to the advantage of the person who is possessed of them. Without it learning is pedantry, and wit impertinence; Virtue itself looks like weakness, the best parts only qualify a man to be more sprightly in errors, and active to his own prejudice' ('Spectator,' No. 225). The utmost we can hope for in this world is contentment; if we aim at anything higher, we shall meet with nothing but grief and disappointments. A man should direct all his studies and endeavours at making himself easy now, and happy hereafter' (Ib. No. 163). In the Record Office there are preserved many lists of prisoners condemned at the Old Bailey Sessions, and lying in Newgate for the execution of sentence. In some cases the decisions of the Secretary of State are recorded in Addison's handwriting; and there are letters addressed to Addison by prisoners who pitifully beg his compassion. He knew what was going on, but from the first page of his works to the last there is not one word of pity for those suffering the agonies of captivity. It was left to writers like Ned Ward, the coarse and brutal author of 'The London Spy,' to protest against the bestialities of the penal system. Addison was wholly taken up with himself—a man was to direct all his endeavours to make himself 'easy now and happy hereafter.' Chaucer's Friar held a similar doctrine: 'For unto swich a worthy man as he Such was Addison's attitude to the criminal and the poor; and, though he wrote in the 'Guardian' (No. 166), 'I never saw an indigent person in my life without reaching out to him some . . . imaginary relief. I cannot |