no knowledge at all, but far preferable that he should read such a book as Harry W. French's "The Lance of Kenana." There he will find the Arab ideals of religion and patriotism embodied in a youth of eighteen who can control the most obstinate camel and the worst-tempered dromedary, who is swift-footed, with trained eyes and hands and can endure even the reproach of cowardice if secure in selfapproval. Alone and foot, on he crosses the desert; alone he defies an army, saves his country and, dying, leaves his tribe an imperishable heritage of glory. He makes no useless sacrifice, but is as wise, as subtle and as persevering as any gray beard; in short, Kanana is a model for any boy's emulation. Lothrop, Lee & Shepard Co.

No saner book on the war has appeared than "The Imperial Impulse," by Samuel P. Orth. The author has been fitted for his subject by long study of conditions abroad and a wide experience of men and affairs at home. He attacks his theme from the point of view of a historical philosopher and attempts to read, behind the soldiers and the emperors, the real secret of the people. So well does he succeed in these six sketches of the various nations that one cannot read his chapter on Germany without accusing him of being a pro-German, or on France without feeling that, above all other people, he loves and reverences the French. But his picture of the English Opportunist shows him again as a profound admirer of the pluck and go of that island nation; while his heart aches for Belgium. Each study goes back to the root of things and sets the national character in the frame of its political and social history, showing how that character has been differentiating for the last thousand years in all these peoples; though he does feel that the Russian is still lost

in the back ages, a creature on the eve of making history with a rush, history for the other nations and itself. His last chapter on "Our First Duty" is the least original and resolves itself into a clever plea for Pan-Americanism. The Century Co.

Mrs. Elizabeth W. Coffin has written for her son an account of her girlhood, her brother and her parents, calling it "A Girl's Life in Germantown." The author's father was an artist, George B. Wood, and the volume gives pleasant glimpses of him and his work as well as a copy of one of his pictures. This painting is of the office of Mr. Childs the publisher and is so minutely done that to all appearances it is a photograph. There are no nuances-not a subtlety of light or of the draughtsman's soul. It is very remarkable in its way. Photographs of Mr. Wood's making enliven the book and are really extraordinary considering the state of development in that art at his day. The account of these childhood memories must have proved delightful writing. Sherman, French & Co.

It is a pity that George Wharton James does not employ some one with a knowledge of English to go over his remarkable books carefully and eliminate the ugly slips in grammar; for they are not a few. Mr. James writes in a vigorous, straightforward, manly style, with subtleties and clever turns on every page; but he allows all the common errors of conversation to enter constantly. Beyond that the author has a "strong message" as the pious slang phrases it. He lives in the sunshine, preaches the sunshine, sees the good of the world, and the sweetness and light in all the people of the world. Ridicule, misunderstanding of other men, the ugly sneer, are impossible to his clarified soul. He preaches the highest and best discoverable in all that philosophy

of the gladsome life, declared by William James to be America's best gift to the world. Mr. James's two books, "Quit Your Worrying," and "Living the Radiant Life," are published by the Radiant Life Press, Pasadena, California. The first is the negative view, don't worry, don't be a coward, or jealous, or impatient, or indifferent, orany fretful thing. The second volume states the manner in which its author radiates-joy, cheerfulness, courage, content, sincerity, service, humor. It ends with a tender chapter on The Radiance of Death. The two Comrades of the Quiet Hour.

are

Being a naval officer, and having served long at the Annapolis Academy, the author of "Midshipman Stanford" writes with authority of life at that institution, the Junior of West Point, but still the possessor of an ample volume of tradition, and of many quaint customs. The hero begins his career on an ocean passenger steamship and being an uncommonly good swimmer is able to save a young girl's life when a great wave sweeps both of them from the deck. Her father, a Senator, obtains his appointment at Annapolis, and, being much impressed by the oath of allegiance, the youngster imposes a very lofty standard of conduct upon himself, and adheres to it, to the wrath of many of his comrades. His austerity is tempered by an active sense of humor, and he is able literally to stand a disturber of the peace upon his head to the general joy. Boys who love sea stories will discover that "Midshipman Stanford" exactly suits them and parents desirous of knowing the inner life of the Academy will find it worth tons of official reports. Lothrop, Lee & Shepard Co.

The new verse has been summed up more than once by the series of books of poems published by Houghton Mifflin Co. In "Idols" by Walter Conrad Arensberg has been found one of the most radical of the Imagistsunless he has discovered some newer name by which to express the weird beauty of his eccentric poetry. Indeed he gives the definition of this movement, in his opening page:

"Loosen the web, Arachne, and we will waltz.

Loosen, Arachne,

The spider-web that ensnared
The feet in such a struggling bergamask."

Even those readers who do not admit
that all the singers gone before did have
feet snared in a stupid clown-dance, that
Shakespeare, Dante, Wordsworth (him-
self a revolutionist in youth) have all
struggled and failed, have all needed
enlightenment from the frenzy of the
Twentieth Century, Walt Whitman
and Edgar Lee Masters, must admit the
charm, the quaintness, the subtle
music that Arenberg has brought to the
working out of his lines. He has also
brought a savage hate of Germany:
"Can He who heard the plea for ignor-

ance:

Forgive them for they know not what they do!

Stooping to the uplifted cross of France Forgive the Germans-they who know

and knew."

Not much imagist about those four lines! Others in this short collection are fully as direct. At the end of the book are exquisite translations of Mallarmé's "L'Apres-midi d'un Faun" and of the Francesca da Rimini canto of Dante's Inferno.