His do

eventually gave himself to public affairs and practical life because he schooled himself to them, but his earlier love was in deeper things, and Jowett and others were disposed to think that his ultimate choice of official life was a renunciation of high possibilities." Glimpses of his truer bent may be seen in his Hampton Lectures, and in the delightful letters written to his son when an undergraduate at Balliol on philosophy. mestic relations, it may be said in passing, whether to his sons, or to the mother who fostered his earlier, or the wife who cherished his middle and later, life, were ideal, and are indicated in these pages, rather than described, with the eloquence of reserve and reticence not always found in biographies. Indeed, all through an excellent feature in these volumes is their condensation and compression. The memorable moments of the Archbishop's life-the end of Kneller Hall, the Essays and Reviews crisis, the Reredos cases at Exeter Cathedral and St. Paul's, the "Response" to Pope Leo XIII's Bull invalidating Anglican Orders, a Response in which Temple made it his business to "cut out all the thunder," the famous pronouncement of 1898 on questions of ritual and doctrine, the scene of the Coronation, and of the Archbishop's last days-all are The Spectator.

handled clearly and concisely, with sufficient fulness, yet without any waste of words. The consequence is that the story of this long and laborious life is told very adequatély in two quite moderate volumes, in itself no small achievement in these days of superabundant materials and equally superabundant partiality.

In truth, he was a man whose strength, and honesty, and excelling qualities of heart and head, must have carried him far in any calling, even the most unpromising. The same faithful diligence which inspired him as a child to propel the sack of nails which he could not carry foot by foot along the weary road till he reached his goal, in after life overcame a hundred difficulties and removed mountains of petty obstructions. Not perhaps very original or creative, certainly neither subtle nor artistic, he was a very forceful and notable man. As we leave the strong figure as it is depicted on the last page of these volumes, kneeling in effigy on his beautiful monument in Canterbury Cathedral, we feel that here, though his tenure was brief and he came to it an old man, is one of the memorable men in the long historic line of English Primates; we recognize more and more

His likeness to the wise below,
His kindred with the great of old.

A series of volumes is to be published in England under the title of "Gleanings from Manuscripts," which will comprise poems and dramas of the sixteenth and seventeenth centuries which have never yet been printed. These "Gleanings" will include works by many writers as yet unknown to fame, and also poems by well-known

authors which have not yet been collected or edited.

The old Scripture story of Rahab and the Hebrew spies, and the deliverance of the woman and her family from the destruction which overwhelmed Jericho, is the theme of Richard Burton's "Rahab," a drama in three acts.

To

reclothe and to make real characters from so remote a past, and to avoid jarring modernisms of phrase is no easy task: and Dr. Burton has not altogether succeeded in it. But his conception is not wanting in imagination, and his style is dignified and forceful. The romantic elements which he has interwoven with the slender Scripture narrative add to the dramatic interest of the story. Henry Holt & Co.

Mr. Charles H. Barrows's volume entitled "The Personality of Jesus" grew out of an attempt which the author, who is not a professional theologian but a lawyer, made to present to a Bible-class such a view of the personality and character of Jesus as might be helpful in making Him more real. The successive chapters of this book follow the lines along which the author's attempt at instruction proceeded. They are freshly and strongly written, and deeply reverent. Whoever follows them to their conclusion will find them at once a vivid picture of the person of Christ, and a help to a closer spiritual communion with Him. Houghton, Mifflin & Co.

Dr. Edward Curtis's "Nature and Health" (Henry Holt & Co.) is accurately described by its sub-title as "a popular treatise on the hygiene of the person and the home." Its distinguishing characteristic is the homely quality known as common sense. The facts and principles familiar to the specialist and to the general medical practitioner, so far as they affect the simple functions of seeing, hearing, breathing, eating, drinking, sleeping, etc. are put in a form calculated to be of use to "the man in the street" and his household, and are moreover put so pungently that they can hardly fail of securing lodgment in the memory. The book is of a useful class and is of the best of its class.

"Elizabeth Montagu: The Queen of the Blue-Stockings" has been published by Mr. Murray in two illustrated volumes, edited by Mrs. Montagu's greatgreat-niece, Emily J. Climenson. In 1899 Mrs. Climenson came into possession of the whole of Mrs. Montagu's manuscripts, contained in 68 cases, holding from 100 to 150 letters in each. A large number are undated, which made the task of sorting very difficult. The fourth Baron Rokeby, who published two volumes of his aunt and adopted mother's letters in 1810, and two more in 1813-"made," says Mrs. Climenson, "a variety of mistakes as to the dates of the letters. I hope I have atoned for some of his deficiencies." Only the early life of Mrs. Montagu is presented in the present work, but Mrs. Climenson hopes to continue the narrative in subsequent volumes.

Under the attractive title "Hawaiian Yesterdays" Dr. Henry M. Lyman has gathered his recollections of a boyhood spent in the Hawaiian islands. Dr. Lyman is a doctor of medicine and not of theology, but his father was one of the American missionaries who went out to Hawaii to bring the natives to a knowledge of Christianity, and whose labors were attended with such remarkable results. Into this missionary household Dr. Lyman was born in 1835, and it is mostly of the period between that date and 1853 that he writes. His reminiscences are not dominated by any especially serious purpose, but they give a series of vivid pictures of native life and customs and of missionary activities in those early days. Dr. Lyman has the saving grace of humor which keeps him from dulness, and even the minor details of his informal narrative have a fascinating interest. There are numerous illustrations from paintings and photographs and two maps. A. C. McClurg & Co.

With what controlling eyes he sees
The countless movements of the trees,
Branches and leaves to his far gaze
Lost in one liquid, trembling haze,
And branches to his inner sight
Become but dancing points of light.
And how he casts upon the whole
The enduring wonder of his soul,
Proving with what expectant eyes
He looked on plain realities;
Until the small familiar wood
Has caught the magic of his mood
And the oft-travelled meadow wears
A heightened look, like one that hears
A distant unexpected strain
Of music, quickly hushed again,
As if some wild divinity,
Visible only to his eye,

One moment past had stolen by,
And her quick breath,

there,

remaining

Were misting still the morning air,
And by her beauty had been cast
A shadow that still seems to last,
Although her silent feet have passed.
A. C.-B.

The Speaker.

THE CITY OF IMMORTALITY. Long, long ago, in the world's twilit prime,

There stood a white-walled city on a hill;

All dwelling there escaped Time's direst ill,

For Death came never to that golden clime.

And eager thousands trod its hillside thyme

And scaled the height keen-eyed with ardent will

To baffle thus the Great Marauder's skill

And live for ever on that peak sublime.

Ah! many entered there, yet none did reap

Self-promised joys of immortality; For soon or late all yearned to fall asleep,

And one by one, with many a weary sigh,

Stole past the city portals down the steep

To old sweet haunts where they were free to die.

John Anderson Stewart.

The Pall Mall Magazine.

ON THE FELLS.

The ragged heather-ridge is black Against the sunset's frosty rose. With rustling breath down syke and slack

The icy, eager North wind blows.

It shivers through my hair, and flicks The blood into my tingling cheek; And with adventurous urging pricks My spirit that, in drowsy reek

Of glowing peats, had dreamed too long,

Crouched in the cosy inglenook, Till life seemed vainer than the song Sung by the kettle on the crook.

Till life seemed vainer than the puff Of steam that perished in hot airA fretful fume-a vapor-stuff

Of fitful passion, cloudy care.

But as, once more, I watch the stars Rekindling in the glistering West Beyond the fell-top's naked scars, Life rouses in me with new zest.

The immortal wakens in my blood Beneath the North wind's bitter thresh;

And universal life at flood Breaks through the bonds of bone and flesh.