His suit, 'tis shame on all that woman's days.

So thrown amid new laws, new places, why,

"Tis magic she must have, or prophecyThe Academy.

Home never taught her that-how best to guide

Toward peace this thing that sleepeth at her side. R. Y. Tyrell.

Among works to come from the Cambridge University Press shortly is a volume entitled "National Life and Character in the Mirror of Early English Literature," by Edmund Dale, M.A., D.Lit. The object of the book is to set forth and to illustrate, by means of extracts from contemporary writers, the ever-developing character of the Englishman in the successive ages of his early career.

"The Many-Sided Universe," by C. M. E. (E. P. Dutton & Co.) is an obviously sincere attempt to make more clear to young people the relations which exist between the natural and spiritual worlds. Whoever the author may be who conceals his identity behind these initials, he has a spirit at once earnest and tolerant; and his little book is calculated to steady and make more vital the faith of young people who may give it a thoughtful reading.

Under the title "Truth and Falsehood in Religion," E. P. Dutton & Co. print a second edition of six lectures which were delivered at Cambridge, England, to undergraduates in the Lent term last year by William Ralph Inge, D.D. These are direct, forceful discourses aimed directly at the intelligence of a student audience and intended to give a sane presentation of religion. They are upon such practical themes as Religion in the Life of the Individual, Faith and Fact, The Religion of Christ and Problems and Tasks, and they derive a certain directness and cogency

from the circumstances under which they were delivered.

Messrs. Allston Rivers of London have just published at a shilling each two booklets of "Democratic Sonnets" by Mr. William Michael Rossetti, as the first instalment of "The Contemporary Poets Series." These fifty sonnets were mostly written about 1881, and only three of them have been printed before, being regarded then as too outspoken for the temper of the time. The series is being produced under the editorship of Mr. F. M. Hueffer, and early volumes in it will be "Sealed Orders and other Poems," by Mr. W. H. Pollock; "The Soul's Destroyer, and other Poems," by Mr. W. H. Davies; and "Repose, and other Verses," by Mr. J. Marjoram.

The twenty-sixth volume of the reprints of "Early Western Travels" which Dr. Reuben Gold Thwaites, with the assistance of several Coworkers, is editing for the Arthur H. Clark Company is devoted to the reproduction of Edmund Flagg's "The Far West." All of these terms are relative, so far as the history of this country is concerned, and the "Far West" of which Flagg wrote in 1838 long since became the "Middle West." Flagg's travels were confined to the states of Missouri and Illinois, and the material out of which he made his book appeared first as a series of letters in the Louisville Journal. Flagg was little more than a youth at the time-his death did not occur until 1890-and his

style is not wholly free from the exuberances of youth. But he saw keenly and closely and reported what he saw, and what he thought about it in a vivid and picturesque manner. Some aspects of the development of the West can be nowhere studied to better advantage than in these pages.

The English papers record with regret the recent death of Sir William Howard Russell, at the age of 86. The Athenæum says of him that he was generally regarded as the first of modern war correspondents, though he had predecessors such as Crabb Robinson. As a veteran of the profession Sir William won many tributes of respect and affection, and retained to the last the vivacity and geniality which distinguished his many narratives of camp and field. He began as a young man at Trinity College, Dublin, in 1841, to write correspondence to The Times concerning the troublous elections of the period, and reported the trial of O'Connell in 1843. Henceforth his career was settled, and he had a series of successes. He was in the Crimean War (where his complaints of neglect and mismanagement caused both sensation and reform), and in India in 1857-1858, during the heroic days of the Mutiny. He returned home so weakened by the trials of campaigning that he gave up the idea of going abroad again, and established The Army and Navy Gazette, which he edited till his death. He was persuaded, however, to go out to Washington in 1860, made a tour of the Southern States, and was present at the battle of Bull Run in 1861. His plain speaking on this occasion led to unpopularity and his recall. He was in the war between Prussia and Austria in 1866, and followed the FrancoGerman War with the victors in 1870, and as late as 1879 went to South Africa for The Daily Telegraph. Here

he was permanently lamed, but nothing could conquer the robustness of his constitution.

Mr. Denis A. McCarthy's "Voices from Erin" (Boston: Angel Guardian Press) have the true lyric spontaneity and sweetness. There is nothing in the least forced or artificial for example, in verse like this:

Ah, sweet is Tipperary in the springtime of the year,

When life like the year is young, When the soul is just awaking like a lily blossom breaking,

And love words linger on the tongue: When the blue of Irish skies is the hue

of Irish eyes,

And love dreams cluster and cling Round the heart and round the brain. half of pleasure, half of pain. Ah, sweet is Tipperary in the spring. There is something charmingly ingenuous in the manner in which the poet annexes the delights of spring to those of his saint's day:

After the dreary winter weather,

After the cold and the silence too. Spring and St. Patrick's Day together Come with a message of hope anew. Green grass growing in sheltered places Shows its color to weary eyesHow can we wonder that all the races Welcome the day when the green flag flies?

In a different vein, and appealing to the universal human consciousness is this "At Night":

Often at night my little daughter stirs And cries, perhaps at some rude

dream of ill,

But when she feels her father's hand on hers

She sinks again to slumber sweet and still.

Often at night I, too, from dreaming start,

Shaken by fears, alas, that are not dreams,

But when Thou lay'st Thy hand upon my heart,

O Christ the Comforter, how sweet it

seems.