ng scene presented, which pictures the ruthless hanging of
Cordelia and the Fool before the eyes of the aged Lear, we can discern
no quality that is not strictly Shakespearian. The language has been
purged of every trace of modernism and flows with that semi-solemn,
archaic, Elizabethan cadence that almost makes it hard to believe that
it was written in this century. But all this might be done without
achieving the supreme Shakespearian touch. The triumph of the scene is
that the character delineation is carried on with such a mastery of its
intricacies that this scene might be interpolated in a new edition of
the play and fool the higher critics of the future. The author, Samuel
Loveman, is an amateur of former days who celebrates his return to the
hobby with this feat so characteristic of his peculiar genius. The
United has its Lovecraft, a belated Georgian who says he is nowhere so
much at home today as he would be in the coffee-houses of Pope or
Johnson. The National once more after a lapse of years has its Loveman,
a belated Elizabethan who could have walked into the Mermaid Tavern and
proved a congenial soul to Kit Marlowe and friend Will. The United
welcomes him back.

Harry Martin, the editor, follows with an essay on the elements of the
classic Greek tragedy to be found in "King Lear," which in depth, tone,
and general literary quality are strongly reminiscent of the best work
that appears in the =Atlantic Monthly=. As an essay it is perfect in
form, its thesis is stated clearly and developed with forceful logic,
and the wealth of material brought to bear upon the subject displays a
knowledge of Shakespeare and the classic drama worthy of Truman Spencer,
of beloved amateur memory.

The editorial section is only to be criticized in that Mr. Martin has
cut us off with so few of his readable "Views Martinique," but we shall
live in hopes of another excellent =Sprite= with a longer editorial
department. George Cribbs' "History" is just a little poem used for a
filler, but this must not be taken in derogation, for it is filler
chosen with the good taste that characterizes the choice of all the
other contributions. In spite of its simplicity and its brevity, it
plays with the deft touch of mastery on that chord of pathos that always
vibrates to the thought of Time's ceaseless and inevitable surge. From
every point of view the whole journal is a symphony of excellence.

* * * * *

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