he Daughter of Joy, the Bookmaker, the Party Politician, the
Musical Comedy entrepreneur, the Agitator, even the Cleric (although
not, I am sure, he of the wrapper) are called to justice. Everything for
and against them is then said, either by themselves or the advocate, and
sentence is passed. The result is a book curiously rich in sympathy,
fearless and fine, and provocative of much thought. That it is in
essence a tract is nothing against it; for many of the best novels
belong to that genus, and HOGARTH, of whom now and then the reader is
forced to think, was a tractarian to the core. I take off my hat to
"HUGH CARTON" and wish that more parsons were as humane and
understanding as he.

* * *

Mr. ALGERNON BLACKWOOD seems as a writer to possess two quite distinct
literary methods. There is his style high-fantastical, which at its best
touches a kind of fairylike inspiration, unique and charming--the style,
for example, of _Jimbo_. Then, on a lower plane, there is the frankly
bogie creepiness of _John Silence_. Between the two he has created a
position for himself, half trickster, half wizard, that none else in
modern literature could fill. His new book, _Incredible Adventures_
(MACMILLAN), is a combination of both methods. Four of the five
adventures are of the mystically gruesome kind, removed however from
being commonplace ghost-stories by a certain dignity of conception. It
is to be admitted that but for this dignity two at least would fall into
some peril of bathos. Take the first, _The Regeneration of Lord Ernie_,
in which a young tutor, bear-leading a spiritless scion of nobility
through Europe, brings his bored charge to a strange mountain village
where the inhabitants worship the forces of fire and wind. If you know
Mr. BLACKWOOD'S work, as you surely do, I need not detail to you what
happens. Told as he tells it, at considerable, even undue, length, but
with a wonderful sense of the mysterious, of the feeling of the
wind-swept mountain and its roaring fires, the thing is undeniably
impressive. But in other less expert hands it would become ludicrous.
There is one tale of finer texture than the others. It is called
_Wayfarers_, and is a quite beautiful little fantasy on the old theme
that love is longer than life. This is what Mr. BLACKWOOD can do to
perfection. It redeems a volume that, for all its originality, does not
otherwise display his art quite at its best.

* * *

_Antarctic Adventu