ever return from the
Holy Land. As for the closing pages that describe the departure of
the Jerusalem-farers, they are difficult to read aloud without a
sob and a lump in the throat.

The underlying spiritual action of "Jerusalem" is the conflict of
idealism with that impulse which is deep rooted in the rural
communities of the old world, the love of home and the home soil.
It is a virtue unfortunately too dimly appreciated in restless
America, though felt in some measure in the old communities of
Massachusetts and Virginia, and Quaker homesteads near Philadelphia.
Among the peasant aristocracy of Dalecarlia attachment to the
homestead is life itself. In "Jerusalem" this emotion is pitted on
the one hand against religion, on the other against _love_. Hearts
are broken in the struggle _which_ permits Karin to sacrifice the
Ingmar Farm to obey the inner voice that summons her on her
religious pilgrimage, and _which_ leads her brother, on the other
hand, to abandon the girl of his heart and his life's personal
happiness in order to win back the farm.

The tragic intensity of "Jerusalem" is happily relieved by the
undercurrent of Miss Lagerloef's sympathetic humour. When she has
almost succeeded in transporting us into a state of religious
fervour, we suddenly catch her smile through the lines and realize
that no one more than she feels the futility of fanaticism. The
stupid blunders of humankind do not escape her; neither do they
arouse her contempt. She accepts human nature as it is with a warm
fondness for all its types. We laugh and weep simultaneously at the
children of the departing pilgrims, who cry out in vain: "We don't
want to go to Jerusalem; we want to go home."

To the translator of "Jerusalem," Mrs. Velma Swanston Howard,
author and reader alike must feel indebted. Mrs. Howard has already
received generous praise for her translation of "Nils" and other
works of Selma Lagerloef. Although born in Sweden she has achieved
remarkable mastery of English diction. As a friend of Miss Lagerloef
and an artist she is enabled herself to pass through the temperament
of creation and to reproduce the original in essence as well as
sufficient verisimilitude. Mrs. Howard is no mere artisan
translator. She goes over her page not but a dozen times, and the
result is not a labored performance, but a work of real art in
strong and confident prose.

HENRY GODDARD LEACH.
Villa Nova, Pennsylvania.