Chapter VIII: Front Matter (8)

It is not as if there were no drama better than the Revue or the Musical Comedy, but the stupidity of the high-brows, their dull acceptance of the solemn and the pompous, of anything in fact that is not bright or imaginative or stirring, but is sufficiently pretentious, does incalculable harm to that annually growing fraction of the public which, fully appreciative of Revue and Musical Comedy, is yet unsatisfied and is really thirsting for finer things. This public is continually essaying samples of the drama of the high-brows and is continually being driven back from such dry, unprofitable verbiage to those theatres where there is humour, wit, charm and beauty. And for this evidence of good taste it is roundly abused. I frequently wonder whether anyone of these misguided zealots has ever been inside the popular theatre, the theatre of the Musical Comedy. Have they any idea what a revelation of beauty it is to large numbers of the population? I dare to assert that in London the popular theatre has done more to develop and educate the taste of the masses in dress, furniture, and decoration than fifty years of propaganda from Ruskin, William Morris, and all their disciples. The theatre, of course, has learnt from the artists of all countries, but it has been the great cultural organisation which has taken the fruits of the artists' work to the people and opened their eyes.

In educating the senses the popular theatre has done and is still doing invaluable work; it is when it comes to educating the finer emotions that it fails so lamentably, though hardly so utterly as the high-brow theatre, in which there are no emotions but those of despair, disillusionment and derision. And yet it is strange that in spite of the general abuse of the low standards of London plays, on the rare occasions when a really fine play is put on it is generally met by the critics with a chorus of disapproval or the praise that damns. We have had a good example in London recently. Mr. Henry Ainley, by common consent our finest actor, begins his management of the St. James's Theatre with Tolstoy's _The Living Corpse_, the title being changed to _Reparation_, in consideration of the mental state of a public frightened out of its wits by the high-brows and the cranks. Tolstoy was a great man, and _The Living Corpse_ is a fine play, a play that ought to have a great success; but do the critics say, "Here at last is a magnificent play, a play which everyone must see"? Not a bit of it. The general spirit of their notices is one of chilly respect for the famous name of Tolstoy, with an insinuation that the play would have been much better if it had been handled by a competent dramatist like Sir Arthur Pinero or Mr. Sutro. "What is the central theme? We are not quite sure," says the critic of the leading London daily. Is it a mere coincidence that on the same page that journal's musical critic, in reference to _Prometheus_, the work of Tolstoy's compatriot, Scriabin, one of the greatest of modern composers, says he does not understand it and, asking himself whether Scriabin was "sane or deranged," declares that he does not know? Here is a lesson for Drama Leagues, for it is almost certain that when we do get good drama scarcely anyone will know it.

* * * * *

A society called "The Phœnix," with headquarters at Dudley House, Southampton Street, Strand, has been formed to revive plays of Elizabethan, Restoration, and later times. The following plays have been selected for early production:

_The Duchess of Malfi_ (John Webster), _Marriage à la Mode_ (John Dryden), _The Fair Maid of the West_, Part I. (Thomas Heywood), _Don Carlos_ (Thomas Otway), _Volpone_ (Ben Jonson). _The Duchess of Malfi_ will be given on Sunday, November 16th.

DRAMATIC LITERATURE

HEARTBREAK HOUSE, ETC. By BERNARD SHAW. Constable. 7_s._ 6_d._

Mr. Shaw is one of the most consistent authors living. His readers know almost to a comma what he is going to give them every time they open his latest book. That is perhaps the chief reason why there has been such a falling off in Mr. Shaw's popularity of recent years. Another reason is, of course, the war; but it is strange that Mr. Shaw's opinions, or his particular way of expressing his opinion, during the war should have alienated and even made bitterly hostile men of wide knowledge and experience of his writings and his character who, if they could be persuaded momentarily to reflect without prejudice, would have to admit that what offends them now was precisely what offended so many others in the years before the war, when they on the contrary were Mr. Shaw's ardent champions or, at the very least, his apologists. It only goes to show how very far anyone of us is from being able to judge a man's work rationally once our own particular prejudice is touched. We are all raw somewhere, and woe to the man who touches us on the raw, for then all hope of dispassionate criticism, of Christian toleration even, is gone. It has been Mr. Shaw's most vivid characteristic that he has never lost his intellectual integrity. It is easy to be honest among one's enemies, but to be honest among one's friends is a virtue so rare, so uncomfortable, and outwardly so contrary to the spirit of fair play that it is not surprising it should be generally detested. Mr. Shaw has always retained what he believes, perhaps conceitedly, to be his right to say the worst that can be said of his dearest friends, and of the advocates of whatever cause happens at the moment to be nearest to his heart. However ruinous such conduct may appear to be to the immediate interests of the movement he is supposed to support, he will not abandon his right to forge weapons for the enemy more damaging than any discoverable by their own brains. When life or one's country or one's family is at stake, such conduct appears little less than devilish, yet Mr. Shaw has his right to express his opinions as lucidly and as pointedly as he can, and it may be that when we are far enough removed from the heat and blinding dust of the moment's conflict we shall realise that Mr. Shaw has been faithful to the truth that is in him, and if we have any reason to complain it is certainly not of Mr. Shaw, but of the God who made him.

It may seem that what the ordinary man would call, and call wrongly, Mr. Shaw's unreliability does not square with the assertion that he is consistent, and that his readers know beforehand exactly what Mr. Shaw is going to give them. But Mr. Shaw's consistency lies in his artillery, not in his object of attack. The enemy varies, but the same guns are always going off. In _Heartbreak House_ there is at times all and more than all the old brilliancy. The dialogue of the first and third acts is concentrated, savage, and burns with an intensity that casts a dull imaginative glow over the play. The characters of the Hushabyes, of Captain Shotover, of the sham millionaire Mangan, of Mazzini Dunn, and the fluteplayer are drawn with a pen steeped in vitriol and, exaggerated as they are, they have a genuine imaginative reality deeper than most Shavian figures. There is a moral passion in this play gloomier and more savage than in anything Mr. Shaw has yet done, and an absence of that childish and inconsequent flippancy which so often mars his work. The other plays in the volume vary in quality from some excellent fooling in _Great Catherine_ to a depressing mechanical liveliness, almost utterly without humour, in _Augustus Does His Bit_. The best of them is _O'Flaherty, V.C._; but although it frequently makes one laugh one finds oneself, at the end, closing the book with that tired yawn that seems to be the fatal consequence of reading a great deal of Mr. Shaw at one time.

FIRST PLAYS. By A. A. MILNE. Chatto & Windus. 6_s,_

I am not sure that I do Mr. Milne any injustice by asserting that the best thing in his first volume of plays is the Introduction, describing how the five plays came to be written. It is turned with that inimitable grace and lightness of touch which have made Mr. Milne famous as a journalist. Mr. Milne's charm and quaint humour need a certain space in which to display themselves. It would be fatal to hurry him or to try to straighten his meanderings and digressions, but that is exactly what the dramatic form does do. It is not that Mr. Milne cannot express himself in a few sentences, he can; but however few the sentences they will be allusive, indirect, full of parabolas and curves that seem to lead away but really come back to the point. These qualities are difficult to transfer to dialogue, especially when one is hampered by the consciousness of theatrical convention, and in his first effort, _Wurzel-Flummery_, after inventing that wonderful name, Mr. Milne fails entirely to get his own individual qualities into the play. The dialogue is in short, flavourless sentences that seem to have been shot out of a popgun, and the characters being mere lay-figures, the play is simply dull. The _Lucky One_ is a much more ambitious and more successful experiment. The people are alive, but Mr. Milne is probably right in seeing no hope of its being produced. It is intelligence without frills or decoration; and, as he says, "the girl marries the wrong man." It is in _Belinda_ that Mr. Milne is most successfully himself. Mr. Milne calls it an "April Folly in three acts." and that describes it exactly.

W. J. TURNER

THE FINE ARTS

It may be of interest at this juncture, now that the "close time" for artists between the spring and autumn exhibitions has come to an end, to review past events in artistic circles, and attempt to place readers _au courant_ with events to come. The war has not been without its effects on some branches of artistic development. The supporters of Burlington House, it is true, pursue their way more or less undisturbed by the startling incidents of the last four years; I would be inclined to rank with them the greater part also of the members of the International Society of Painters, Sculptors, and Engravers, whose twenty-sixth exhibition is now being held at the Grosvenor Galleries.

It is only fair to say, however, that the so-called revolutionary in art can sometimes find a place for his work even on these august walls.

The New English Art Club has been handicapped by the commandeering of its gallery by the Government. Still, here again the god-fathers and professors still hold the sway, and it is only in such bodies as the Allied Artists Association, the Friday Club, and the London Group, that the new blood can be more or less assured of a place to exhibit their work and obtain their share in the business of acceptance for, and arrangement of, exhibitions. All these societies are now firmly established, though the last-named has sustained a great loss by the death of its admirable president, Harold Gilman. The Allied Artists is a thoroughly democratic institution and a step towards a trade union of artists, if such a thing is possible: that some step in that direction is needed there can be no doubt, as the artist suffers very severely indeed from the middleman. These societies, then, in their exhibits generally, show renewed signs of energy and development in art.

The employment of younger men in an official capacity as war artists instead of such Academicians as were not too infirm to bear the weight of a steel helmet, showed unusual wisdom and perspicuity on behalf of the responsible bodies concerned. The direct result was a fine collection of paintings by men who, for the most part, had been able to depict their impressions of war in war's surroundings, or record their experiences, not easily forgotten, after they had been freed from the ranks. An exhibition of these paintings held in America was attended with marked success, and helped to make known the work of young English artists in that country. C. R. W. Nevinson, Paul Nash, Wyndham Lewis, and Eric Kennington, to mention only a few, have produced some fine and lasting records of their impressions _in medias res_. The public will have an opportunity of seeing the fine collection of paintings commissioned and collected by the Imperial War Museum this winter. The effect of this official employment is particularly noticeable upon the more extreme body of painters known as the Vorticists with Wyndham Lewis at the head: they have voluntarily or involuntarily made certain concessions to representation ("compromise" is in bad odour now) in their work, but these concessions have in no way weakened the results of their toil, as appeared evident at the Canadian War Memorials Exhibition this spring.

Turning to other events--the exhibition of foreign artists at the Mansard Gallery, which has recently closed, is, I believe, the first one of its kind since the post-impressionist Exhibition at the Grafton Galleries before the war. Now, as then, I fancy, it will be found to be a case of a little garden in a patch of wilderness. Mr. Clive Bell would perhaps have us bow unreservedly before the lions of the continent, but I feel that some of the artists are only repeating with variations the themes given out by their forerunners. Even the work of the accepted masters, such as Picasso and Derain, and so forth, does not seem quite convincing at first sight, but perhaps these were acting purposely as foils to their younger contemporaries. The Exhibition was, nevertheless, of great interest, especially if we may take it to show roughly the various tendencies of continental art.

The Memorial Exhibition of the works of Harold Gilman at the Leicester Galleries deserves special notice. Harold Gilman died suddenly of influenza this spring. To everyone who knew him his death must have come as a severe shock; his unfailing courtesy and true gentleness of manner had endeared him to many. As an artist, the sane outlook and sincere purpose in his work were valuable assets to whatever movement he was connected with. It is difficult at this time to estimate his value as a painter, but I am inclined to think it will be considerable. He had elaborated a fine sense of colour which was as effective in his painting as it was useful in his teaching. His work, hung all together in this exhibition, seems far more striking than when seen in isolated examples, the drawings forming a decidedly important part of the whole. He was not accustomed to show these drawings nor did he seem to value them very much, except as a means to the end; and I am surprised by their excellence. No. 23 is a design for a large painting commissioned by the Canadian Government, and left unfinished at his death. No. 37 is one of the gems of the collection. An illustrated memorial volume of Gilman's work will be published shortly. Other picture shows forthcoming in London during the autumn and winter are--an exhibition of the works of Matisse, Mr. Marchant's Salon, open for the first time since the war at the Goupil Galleries, the Imperial War Museum Exhibition, and the London Group at the Mansard Gallery in November.

* * * * *

To the most hardened critic the sounding title of the International Society of Sculptors, Painters, and Engravers may seem a little overaweing; each time, as the Society's exhibition comes round, he must feel this peculiar thrill; the catalogue also, with its crescendos of lay members, honorary lay members, and deceased honorary lay members, has a conscious feeling of "well-to-do-ness" which is very impressive, and may tend to undermine impartial judgment. The twenty-sixth exhibition of this Society is, notwithstanding, very like many others which have gone before. A long search for instances of any serious purpose, with a few exceptions, meets with nothing but superficial cleverness or work of a purely negative value. As in the exhibitions of Burlington House, so here, the artists seem entirely concerned with the portrayal of the anecdote for itself, without the least regard for design, in fact with the least amount of solid purpose or feeling, and with the free use of cheap _bravura_ painting. There are, of course, the well-known stand-bys who provide what is expected of them with satisfactory regularity. Mr. MacEvoy's portraits of the nobility and gentry seem more and more evanescent, and one would hardly credit them with a drop of red blood, let alone blue--but they have their charm. The portraits in general are not peculiarly interesting, characterised as they are by good but uninspired painting. Mr. Frampton's No. 29 is a case in point. The only bright exception, both as a portrait and a work of art, is Mr. Alvaro Guevara's portrait of Miss Edith Sitwell, which alone is worth paying 1s. 6d. to see. The painting throughout is curiously realistic, the colour is very fine, and the arrangement of the figure so as to present a view looking down upon it, together with the placing of the mats on the floor, make a most interesting design. Placed as it is among the portraits of Mr. MacEvoy, the contrast is startling and a little cruel, not unlike a bird of paradise amongst a batch of ring-doves. I am surprised to see that the perseverance of the firm of Nicholson and Son, though the business is now mostly carried on by Mr. Benjamin Nicholson, has not yet been awarded by royal warrant. No one, I hope, will be so obtuse as not to distinguish the filial from the paternal jug. Considerable mention has been made of the landscapes in water-colour by Miss Frances Hodgkins, and though I cannot quite agree with all that has been said, I think her work has charm and a strong sense of pattern. No. 214, _Threshing_, is especially attractive. The drawings of J. D. Revel will repay attention, particularly No. 194. Mr. Keith Baynes contributes two pleasing drawings, one of which has an interesting design of boats, while Mr. William Rothenstein has a good but very war-like self-portrait. I feel glad my acquaintance with him has been so far only in a civilian capacity. It would appear that sheep-skin jerkins are regulation dress for official war-artists.

ARTISTIC PUBLICATIONS

Art and Letters

With the autumn number of _Art and Letters_ the periodical completes its fourth publication since the beginning of the new series. _Art and Letters_ was first published in July, 1917, under the editorship of Frank Rutter, Harold Gilman, and Charles Ginner, and was devoted to the reproduction of the graphic arts and the publication of short essays, stories, poems, and reviews. After the first four numbers the magazine came under the management of Mr. Frank Rutter and Mr. Osbert Sitwell, who changed the cover from a set design to one of a varied pattern each quarter.

_Art and Letters_ has continued to supply a certain demand as an artistic quarterly, and indeed, with the exception of _Colour_, it seems to be the only periodical which reproduces the works of younger contemporary artists. The first numbers contained some excellent drawings by Walter Sickert, Harold Gilman, and Charles Ginner, with woodcuts by Lucien Pissaro; later, work by Paul Nash, MacKnight Kauffer, and Therèse Lessore formed a pleasing contribution. With the inception of the new series in 1918, the paper was given fresh impetus and still maintains its high level. A criticism which applies to many other like publications may be also applied to _Art and Letters_: it is too precious. There is need of a wider scope and more general appeal to the public.

The chief item of artistic interest in Volume 2, No. 4, of _Art and Letters_, which has just appeared, is the drawing by Modigliani, who was one of the most promising exhibitors at the recent exhibition of Continental Artists held at the Mansard Gallery, and referred to above. This is really a beautiful drawing, delicate and sensitive; the artist, while relying chiefly on the rhythmic value of his line, has introduced ever so slightly into the face the literary interest, so to speak, of a subtle expression which is the quintessence of placid kindness. There are also excellent drawings by the late Gaudier Brzeska and Wyndham Lewis, and a wood-cut by Paul Nash which, at the risk of being censored for partiality, I venture to think is of interest in another branch of his art. The drawing by Miss Anne Estelle Rice is competent and decorative. A new periodical entitled _The Owl_ was hatched in the early summer, in which the excellence of the literary contributions greatly outweighed the value of the artistic reproductions. I hope in the future that the art editor will range a little wider in his choice of drawings.

The Poetry Bookshop

Mr. Harold Monro is publishing a series of monthly chap-books, which has already run into three numbers; it purports to be a record of the poetry and drama of to-day. In so far as it bears upon these columns, Volume 2 is of interest as containing reproductions of Mr. Albert Rutherstone's theatre designs for Bernard Shaw's play, _Androcles and the Lion_, produced at St. James's Theatre before the war. This is altogether an admirable and valuable little book. The most recently published number is entitled _Poems Newly Decorated_, and contains some charming and effective designs by the younger artists.

JOHN NASH

MUSIC

THE PROMENADE CONCERTS

IT has been good to see the Queen's Hall filled once more with a happy crowd, after the thin and uncertain audiences which listened to the Promenade Concerts during the war. Even to a jaded professional critic there is a peculiar sense of pleasure to be derived from them which no other concerts can convey. One is free to smoke, to begin with, and free to move about and see one's friends; for that is one of the pleasant things about a Promenade Concert, that one always finds friends there. And just as one finds unexpected old friends on the floor of the house, so one finds them in the programme. There are many works from which the hardened concert-goer flees when he sees them put in to fill up time in an ordinary symphony concert. At the Promenades he may find himself listening to them in the company of someone who has never heard them before, and suddenly discover that they have taken on a new aspect in relation to all the music which memory has accumulated since the last time that he came across them. The more heterogeneous the programme, the more delightful it is, and one wonders what goes on in the minds of those listeners who crowd to the evenings that are given up to Wagner alone or to Bach, Beethoven, and Mozart. It is on a Wagner night that one begins to be conscious of how badly the band is playing. They are trotting through the old stock extracts, which they are supposed to know by heart. The old hands are bored to death, the new ones do not yet know their way about. At least so one is tempted to think for the moment. And on a classical night one is tempted to quarrel with some of Sir Henry Wood's interpretations.

Such judgments are unprofitable, even if one could be sure that they were true. It is the homogeneous programme that alters one's critical angle. The last new versification of a suburban house-agent's advertisement in the second half of the programme restores a juster balance. To judge from old Promenade programmes, the "one-style" night must be a relic of earlier tradition. When Mr. Robert Newman first started the concerts, in 1895, there would be a Scottish night, an Irish night, a Military night, and, besides a Wagner night, a Gounod night. The Irish night meant a programme of Stanford, Balfe, Wallace and Sullivan. Sullivan still figures in our programmes; the others have dropped out, and so has the Gounod night. The programme of a Military night does indeed seem a curiosity to-day. Here it is: _Military March_ (Schubert), overture _Les Dragons de Villars_ (Maillart), _The German Patrol_ (Eilenberg), _Trumpet Overture_ (Mendelssohn), _The Red Hussar_ (Solomon), _The British Army Quadrilles_ (Jullien), _The Drum Polka_ (Anonymous), and the "Soldiers' Chorus" from _Faust_. Maillart's overture still figures in this year's list; but probably no one wants a military programme in these days, even if it were made up from the classics. It is interesting to note that what we called a "Popular" night differed very little from the Saturday programmes of this year, in spite of the number of novelties that have in the course of time been gradually added to the repertory. The operatic selections were dropped a long time ago, but such things as Handel's _Largo_, Grieg's _Peer Gynt_, the overture to _William Tell_, and Bizet's _L'Arlésienne_ have probably been played once or even twice in every season.

The book of programmes may be regarded as a fair index of average taste, and as such is instructive. English people, on the whole, have had too much common sense to allow their musical interests to be distorted by the war. It is true that modern German music is no longer heard, and that the names of modern French, Russian, and Italian composers figure largely on the programmes. But it is probably also true that the accident of the war has merely helped to consolidate a tendency that was apparent some time before. Brahms was never a composer for the man in the street. What the ordinary man wants in music is a clear-cut tune, a vigorous rhythm, and an exciting volume of sound. He gets these in _William Tell_ and _L'Arlésienne_. In the presence of these and other old favourites we are all ordinary men. They are the things which the man in the street enjoys at a first hearing, the things which the cultivated musician never ceases to enjoy. It is through such music that the average man has gradually learned to enjoy Beethoven's Symphonies and the Brandenburg Concertos, for they too possess those essential qualities.

On the other hand, there is a very large section of the public which demands a more sensuous and emotional type of music. The emotion which these people seek is not necessarily erotic, nor is it consciously religious, though the prelude to _Tristan_ and Handel's _Largo_ (with harp and organ) are among the works which appeal to them most. It was they who made the popularity of Tchaikovsky and Richard Strauss, and it is they who will establish the popularity of Scriabin. Together with this desire for sensuous emotion there is often combined a delight in curious and amusing orchestral effects. This was another factor in the enjoyment of Strauss, and it can be satisfied not only in such works as Scriabin's _Prometheus_, but in Sir Henry Wood's ingenious orchestral transcriptions of Moussorgsky. Brahms has always been too difficult of understanding for the _William Tell_ public, and too austere for what one may call the "wallowers." He is hardly a composer for the Promenade Concerts at all; the _Requiem_, the chamber music, and the songs are his best works, and those can always be heard in their proper places.

The complaint is frequently made that the music of the modern English composers is crowded out, not so much by foreign contemporaries as by the classics. New works by English composers are played once, it is said, but never again. Yet even if we leave out Elgar, as being a classic as surely established as Saint-Saëns, there are several English works which are played over and over again. Sullivan's _In Memoriam_ is one of those which might well be laid on the shelf; but like Walford Davies' _Solemn Melody_ it brings in the organ, and to many English people music of this kind would appear to offer all the spiritual advantages of church-going without its discomforts, intellectual or physical. Besides these there are Mackenzie's _Benedictus_ and Edward German's _Henry VIII._ dances, as well as various pieces by Balfour Gardiner and Percy Grainger, which undoubtedly possess those desirable qualities of tune, rhythm, and a jolly noise. In one case Sir Henry Wood has managed to add the attractions both of organ and _batterie de cuisine_, thus combining mirth with devotion.

It is perhaps because a Promenade audience is so kind and so undiscriminating that these concerts have become the recognized trial ground for new works. This year's novelties have been, on the whole, of little interest. Malipiero's second set of _Impressioni dal Vero_ was the most original, Roger Quilter's _Children's Overture_ the most attractive.

The want of discrimination shown by the audience is most apparent in the case of the vocal and instrumental soloists. A few years ago, it is related, the students of the Paris Conservatoire used to make a hostile demonstration against every concerto on the ground that the concerto was of its nature a bad form of art. There are indeed a fair number of musicians in this country who in private conversation will confess to much the same opinion. Generally, however, if pressed, they will make four or five exceptions, such as the favourite concertos of Mozart and Beethoven, together with Schumann's and the B flat concerto of Brahms. As regards the rest, they at least afford proof of the good manners inculcated at our music schools. The more recent ones, such as those of Rachmaninov and Tcherepnin, are no better than the others. That of Delius alone stands out as a work of real beauty. The real disfigurement of the Promenade Concerts is provided by the singers. One might have supposed that a public which had enjoyed a _scena_ of Wagner or Verdi would refuse to tolerate the vapid domesticities of the second half of the programme. But, alas! it is probably this very domesticity that evokes the applause. The promenaders will admire Isolde's Death Scene or _Eri tu_, but they must worship at a distance. When they hear the other stuff they know that it is something which they themselves can sing successfully in their own suburban drawing-rooms. Sir Henry Wood was once heard to express the hope that some day there might be a Promenade Concert in London every night of the year. Could that hope ever be realized it would be the noblest monument to the man who for our generation at least has created the Promenade Concerts. But must there always be those songs? They are symbols of bondage to commercial interests.

* * * * *

After five years of absence Busoni has returned to England, and his recital at the Wigmore Hall on October 15th showed that his playing has lost none of its former strength and vitality, whilst it has undoubtedly gained in dignity and serenity. His audience consisted mainly of musicians, and his programme was evidently intended for serious and cultivated listeners. He began with the first prelude and fugue from Bach's _Forty-Eight_, producing a wonderful effect at the end of the fugue by a continuous haze of pedal, through which the counterpoint yet stood out with perfect clearness. His reading of the _Goldberg Variations_ was startling, both in its quality of tone and in its departures from the text. But it was clear that there was a considered reason for everything that was done, and as a commentary on Bach the performance was of singular interest. Busoni was at his best in Beethoven's _Hammerklaviev_ sonata. It is probably the most difficult work in all the literature of the pianoforte. When Busoni plays one does not take technical difficulties into account; but this sonata is both supremely difficult to understand and supremely difficult to interpret to an audience. To grasp its vastness of conception and to present it without the least appearance of struggle in perfect balance of poetry and philosophy is a task which Busoni alone of living pianists can accomplish. It was evident from the behaviour of the audience after the end of the sonata that they all realised how in comparison with Busoni most other pianists, despite their admirable qualities, are very small fry.

EDWARD J. DENT.

BIBLIOGRAPHIES OF MODERN AUTHORS[4]

[4] In this section we propose to give monthly skeleton
lists of the works of modern authors: where feasible
of contributors to the issue current.

THOMAS HARDY

[_Poetical works only. Full information as to all his writings may be
obtained from the bibliographies by A. P. Webb and H. Danielson._]

COLLECTED POEMS. Macmillan. 1919.

[This volume and that containing _The Dynasts_, mentioned below, give a full collection of Mr. Hardy's work in verse. The Wessex and Mellstock editions of his complete works include his poems in several volumes.]

SELECTED POEMS. Macmillan. 1916.

[In the Golden Treasury Series.]

WESSEX POEMS. Macmillan. 1898.

[This volume contains illustrations in pen and ink by the author.]

POEMS OF PAST AND PRESENT. Macmillan. 1901.

THE DYNASTS. Macmillan. Part I., 1903. Part II., 1906. Part III., 1908.

[Now published in one volume.]

TIME'S LAUGHING STOCKS. Macmillan. 1909.

SATIRES OF CIRCUMSTANCE, with miscellaneous pieces. Macmillan. 1914.

MOMENTS OF VISION. Macmillan. 1917.

[Certain poems and small collections have been published in very small editions, mainly by CLEMENT K. SHORTER. These include _Song of the Soldiers_ (1914), _When I Weakly Knew_ (1916), _In Time of the Breaking of Nations_ (1916), _The Fiddler's Story_ (1917), _Call to National Service_ (1917), and _Domicilium_ (1918).]

WALTER DE LA MARE

_Verse_

SONGS OF CHILDHOOD. Longmans. 1902.

[Reissued in Longmans' Pocket Library.]

POEMS. Murray. 1906.

A CHILD'S DAY. Verses to pictures. Constable. 1911.

THE LISTENERS AND OTHER POEMS. Constable. 1912.

PEACOCK PIE. Constable. 1913.

[Reissued with pictures by HEATH ROBINSON.]

THE SUNKEN GARDEN. Beaumont. 1918.

[A limited edition de luxe.]

MOTLEY AND OTHER POEMS. Constable. 1918.

[Embodies the whole of the material in the last-named.]

_Prose_

HENRY BROCKEN. Murray. 1904.

THE THREE MULLA MULGARS. Duckworth. 1910.

THE RETURN. Arnold. 1910.

W. H. DAVIES

_Verse_

COLLECTED POEMS. With a portrait by W. ROTHENSTEIN. Fifield. 1916.

[This volume contains a selection of what the author considered the best of his poems up to that date.]

THE SOUL'S DESTROYER. Alston Rivers. 1907.

[This book was published in the Contemporary Poets' Series, after a privately published issue by the author from the Marshalsea. It has since been reissued by Mr. Fifield.]

NEW POEMS. Elkin Mathews. 1907.

NATURE POEMS AND OTHERS. Fifield. 1908.

FAREWELL TO POESY. Fifield. 1910.

SONGS OF JOY. Fifield. 1911.

FOLIAGE. Elkin Mathews. 1913.

THE BIRD OF PARADISE. Methuen. 1914.

CHILD LOVERS. Fifield. 1916.

RAPTURES. Beaumont. 1918.

[A limited edition de luxe.]

FORTY NEW POEMS. Fifield. 1918.

[Contains the poems in the last entry and ten additional pieces.]

_Prose_

THE AUTOBIOGRAPHY OF A SUPER-TRAMP. Fifield. 1908.

[With an introduction by Bernard Shaw.]

BEGGARS. Fifield. 1909.

A WEAK WOMAN. Fifield. 1911.

[A novel.]

THE TRUE TRAVELLER. Fifield. 1912.

NATURE. Batsford. 1913.

[An essay in the Fellowship Books.]

A POET'S PILGRIMAGE. Melrose. 1918.

RUPERT BROOKE

_Verse_

THE COLLECTED POEMS OF RUPERT BROOKE. With a memoir by EDWARD MARSH.

Sidgwick & Jackson. 1918.

[The memoir was separately printed by the same publishers in the same year.]

SELECTED POEMS. Sidgwick & Jackson. 1917.

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POEMS. Sidgwick & Jackson. 1911.

[This, Brooke's first book, has gone into an enormous number of editions, and the first is so scarce as to cost £4 or more in the second-hand market.]

1914 AND OTHER POEMS. Sidgwick & Jackson. 1915.

[This appeared with a portrait shortly after Brooke's death.]

THE OLD VICARAGE, GRANTCHESTER. Sidgwick & Jackson. 1916.

[A poem from the last volume, separately published.]

_Prose_

LETTERS FROM AMERICA. With a preface by HENRY JAMES. Sidgwick & Jackson. 1916.

[James's preface was the last of his published writings. The letters originally appeared in the _Westminster Gazette_; one or two stray papers are added.]

JOHN WEBSTER AND THE ELIZABETHAN DRAMA. Sidgwick & Jackson. 1916.

[Brooke's fellowship thesis at King's. There exists in the British Museum in typescript an essay that Brooke wrote in 1910 for the Harness Prize. The subject is _Puritanism as represented or referred to in the Early English Drama up to 1642_.]

SELECT LIST OF PUBLICATIONS

ANTHROPOLOGY

THE CENTRAL ARAWAKS. By WILLIAM CURTIS FARABEE. Plates and a map
of Southern British Guiana and Northern Brazil. Philadelphia.
Published by the University Museum.

ART

RUSSIAN BALLET. By DAVID BOMBERG. Hendersons. 2_s._ 6_d._

THE ENGLISH ROCK GARDEN. Two vols. By REGINALD FARRAR. T. C. and E.
C. Jack. £3 3_s._

THE "COUNTRY LIFE" BOOK OF COTTAGES. By LAURENCE WEAVER. Second
edition. Revised and enlarged. "Country Life." 9_s._ 6_d._ net.

THE SOCIETY FOR THE PROTECTION OF ANCIENT BUILDINGS. Report on the
treatment of old cottages. By A. H. POWELL, F. W. TROUP, C. C.
WINMILL, and the SECRETARY. 20 Buckingham Street, 2_s._

BELLES-LETTRES

CONTEMPORARIES OF SHAKESPEARE. By ALGERNON CHARLES SWINBURNE.
Heinemann. 6_s._ net.

PROCEEDINGS OF THE BRITISH ACADEMY. For the British Academy. Milford
40_s._ net.

MORE LITERARY RECREATIONS. By SIR EDWARD COOK. Macmillan. 7_s._ 6_d._
net.

DUBLIN ESSAYS. By ARTHUR CLERY. Maunsel. 4_s._ 6_d._ net.

ECHOES OLD AND NEW. By RALPH NEVILL. Chatto & Windus. 12_s._ 6_d._
net.

THE PROBLEM OF HAMLET. By the Right Hon. J. M. ROBERTSON. Allen &
Unwin. 5_s._ net.

SOME DIVERSIONS OF A MAN OF LETTERS. By EDMUND GOSSE. Heinemann.
7_s._ 6_d._ net.

A CRITIC IN PALL MALL. By OSCAR WILDE. Methuen. 6_s._ 6_d._ net.

TRAHERNE (an Essay). By GLADYS E. WILLETT. Heffer. 2_s._ 6_d._ net.

SOME WINCHESTER LETTERS OF LIONEL JOHNSON. Allen & Unwin. 7_s._ 6_d._
net.

THE MEASURES OF THE POETS. A new system of English Prosody. By M. A.
BAYFIELD. Cambridge University Press. 5_s._ net.

BY THE WATERS OF FIUME. A Story of Love and Patriotism. By LORNA DE
LUCCHI. Longmans. 3_s._ 6_d._

THE INNER COURT. By H. C. MASON. Heath Cranton. 5_s._ net.

GULLIBLE'S TRAVELS IN LITTLE BRIT. By W. HODSON BURNET. Illustrated
by THOMAS HENRY. Westall. 2_s._ 6_d._

THE ANONYMOUS POET OF POLAND, ZYGMUNT KRASINSKI. By MONICA M.
GARDNER. Cambridge University Press. 12_s._ 6_d._ net.

THE MYSTICAL POETS OF THE ENGLISH CHURCH. By PERCY H. OSMOND. Society
for Promoting Christian Knowledge. 12_s._ 6_d._ net.

NORSE MYTH IN ENGLISH POETRY. By C. H. HEREFORD, M.A., Litt. D
Longmans, 1_s._ net.

APPRECIATIONS OF LITERATURE. By LAFCADIO HEARN. Heinemann. 15_s._ net.

GEOGRAPHICAL DICTIONARY OF MILTON. By ALLAN G. GILBERT. Yale
University Press. Milford. 15_s._ net.

BIOGRAPHY AND MEMOIRS

MEMORIES. By LORD FISHER. Hodder & Stoughton. 21_s._ net.

SAMUEL BUTLER, author of Erewhon (1835-1902). Memoir by HENRY FESTING
JONES. Two vols. Macmillan. 42_s._ net.

MEMOIRS OF EDWARD EARL OF SANDWICH, 1839-1916. Edited by MRS. STEUART
ERSKINE. Murray. 16_s._ net.

INGRAM BYWATER. By W. W. JACKSON. Oxford University Press.

FROM MUD TO MUFTI. By BRUCE BAIRNSFATHER. Grant Richards. 6_s._ net.

ALEXANDER HENDERSON, Churchman and Statesman. By SHERIFF ROBERT LOW
ORR, R.C. Hodder & Stoughton. 15_s._ net.

THE END OF A CHAPTER. By SHANE-LESLIE. Constable. New edition. 2_s._
net.

WILLIAM BLAKE THE MAN. By CHAS. GARDNER. Dent. 2_s._ 6_d._ net.

THE LIFE OF LIZA LEHMANN. By HERSELF. Fisher Unwin. 10_s._ 6_d._ net.

THE MAN CALLED PEARSE. By DESMOND RYAN. Maunsel. 4_s._ 6_d._ net.

THE LIFE AND LETTERS OF LADY DOROTHY NEVILL. Methuen. 18_s._ net.

CLASSICAL

LUCRETIUS ON THE NATURE OF THINGS. Translated into English verse by
SIR ROBERT ALLISON. Humphreys. 7_s._ 6_d._ net.

THE GREEK ORATORS. By J. F. DOBSON, M.A. Methuen. 7_s._ 6_d._ net.

SPEECHES FROM THUCYDIDES. Oxford University Press. 1_s._ net.

DRAMA

EVERY MAN IN HIS HUMOUR. By BEN JONSON. Edited by PERCY SIMPSON.
Milford. 5_s._ net.

THE MARRIAGE OF ILARIO. By A. HUGH FISHER. Selwyn & Blount. 1_s._
6_d._ net.

THE CLOUDS OF ARISTOPHANES. Acted at Athens at the Great Dionysia,
B.C. 423. Translated into corresponding metres by BENJAMIN BICKLEY
ROGERS, M.A., Hon. D. Litt. Bell. 3_s._ 6_d._ net.

NAPOLEON. A Play. By HERBERT TRENCH. Milford. 2_s._ 6_d._ net.

FICTION

RICHARD KURT. By STEPHEN HUDSON. Martin Secker. 7_s._ 6_d._ net.

THE OLD CONTEMPTIBLES. By BOYD CABLE. Hodder & Stoughton. 6_s._ net.

THE DOMINANT RACE. By F. E. MILLS-YOUNG. Hodder & Stoughton. 7_s._
net.

AN HONEST THIEF and Other Stories. By FYODOR DOSTOEVSKY. Heinemann.
6_s._ net.

HIS MAJESTY'S WELL BELOVED. By BARONESS ORCZY. Hodder & Stoughton.
7_s._ net.

FELIX MORGAINE. By JOSEPHINE PITCAIRN KNOWLES. Methuen. 6_s._ net.

THE GREAT HOUSE. By STANLEY J. WEYMAN. Murray. 7_s._ net.

TIME AND ETERNITY. A Tale of Three Exiles. By GILBERT CANNAN. Chapman
& Hall. 7_s._ net.

THE TENDER CONSCIENCE. By BOHUN LYNCH. Martin Secker. 7_s._

THE SUBSTANCE OF A DREAM. By F. W. BAIN. Methuen. 6_s._ 6_d._ net.

DEADHAM HARD. By LUCAS MALET. Methuen. 7_s._ net.

MADELEINE. By HOPE MIRRLEES. Collins. 6_s._ net.

OLD MAN SAVARIN STORIES. By E. W. THOMSON. Werner Laurie. 7_s._

TIRANOGUE. By DOROTHEA CONYERS. Methuen. 7_s._ net.

THE LION'S MOUSE. By C. N. and A. M. WILLIAMSON. Methuen. 3_s._ 6_d._
net.

LIVING ALONE. By STELLA BENSON. Macmillan. 6_s._ net.

THE YOUNG PHYSICIAN. By FRANCIS BRETT YOUNG. Collins. 7_s._ 6_d._ net.

UP, THE REBELS. By G. A. BIRMINGHAM. Methuen. 7_s._ net.

YOUTH, YOUTH.... By DESMOND COKE, with illustrations by H. M. BROCK.
Chapman & Hall. 7_s._ 6_d._ net.

THE ONE WHO FORGOT. By RUBY M. AYRES. Hodder & Stoughton. 6_s._ net.

THE VEIL OF SILENCE. By R. H. CLARKE. Heath Cranton. 3_s._ 6_d._ net.

THE CANDIDATE'S PROGRESS. By J. A. FARRAR. Fisher Unwin. 7_s._ 6_d._
net.

LOVE AND MRS. KENDRUR. By ELEANOR HOWELL ABBOTT. Heinemann. 2_s._ net.

SECOND YOUTH. By WARWICK DEEPING. Cassell. 7_s._

THE MINX GOES TO THE FRONT. By C. N. AND A. M. WILLIAMSON. Mills &
Boon. 6_s._ net.

THE IRRATIONAL KNOT. By BERNARD SHAW. Constable. 2_s._ net.

THE TAMING OF NAN. By ETHEL HOLDSWORTH. Herbert Jenkins. 7_s._ net.

ALL SORTS. By L. A. R. WYLIE. Mills & Boon. 6_s._

THE BOOMING OF BUNKIE. A History. By A. S. NEILL. Herbert Jenkins.
6_s._ net.

THE PRINCESS OF THE ROSES. By LUIGI MOTTA. Stanley Paul. 7_s._ net.

GREEN LADIES. By DOUGLAS NEWTON. Hurst & Blackett. 6_s._ 9_d._ net.

THE MASTER MIND. By FERGUS HUME. Hurst & Blackett. 6_s._ 9_d._ net.

ENCHANTED HEARTS. By DARRAGH ALDRICH. Jarrolds. 7_s._ net.

THE GOLDEN SCORPION. By SAX ROHMER. Methuen. 6_s._ net.

SEPTEMBER. By FRANK SWINNERTON. Methuen. 7_s._ net.

THE BETRAYERS. By HAMILTON DRUMMOND. Stanley Paul. 6_s._ net.

LITTLE PITCHERS. By OLIVER M. HUEFFER. Stanley Paul. 7_s._

SAINT'S PROGRESS. By JOHN GALSWORTHY. Heinemann. 7_s._ 6_d._ net.

IF ALL THESE YOUNG MEN. By ROMER WILSON. Methuen. 7_s._ net.

WELSH LOVE. By EDITH NEPEAN. Stanley Paul. 6_s._ net.

SYLLABUB FARM. By H. T. SHERINGHAM. Hodder & Stoughton. 7_s._

A PAIR OF IDOLS. By STEWART CAVEN. Chapman & Hall. 7_s._ net.

NEW WINE. By AGNES AND EGERTON CASTLE. Collins. 7_s._ net.

THE ESCAPE OF THE NOTORIOUS SIR WILLIAM HEANS. WILLIAM HAY. Allen &
Unwin. 10_s._ 6_d._ net.

GASTRONOMIC

WINE AND SPIRITS. The Connoisseur's Text Book. By ANDREA L. SIMON.
Duckworth. 7_s._ 6_d._ net.

HISTORY

THE EXPANSION OF EUROPE. A History of the Foundations of the Modern
World. By WILLIAM CORTEZ ABBOTT. Two vols. Bell. 30_s._ net.

A BRIEF HISTORY OF POLAND. By JULIA SWIFT ORVIS, Associate Professor
of History in Wellesley College. Constable. 6_s._ net.

HISTORICAL NIGHTS' ENTERTAINMENT. By RAFAEL SABATINI. Second series.
Hutchinson. 7_s._ 6_d._ net.

THE IMPORTANCE OF WOMEN IN ANGLO-SAXON TIMES. By the Right Rev. G. F.
BROWNE. Society for Promoting Christian Knowledge. 7_s._ 6_d._ net.

PALMERSTON AND THE HUNGARIAN REVOLUTION. By CHARLES SPROXTON, B.A.,
M.C., Cambridge University Press. 7_s._ 6_d._ net.

BENEDICTINE MONACHISM. Studies in Benedictine Life and Rule by the
Right Rev. CUTHBERT BUTLER. Longmans. 18_s._ net.

BOLINGBROKE AND WALPOLE. By the Right Hon. J. M. ROBERTSON. Fisher
Unwin. 12_s._ 6_d._ net.

LAW

EXCESS PROFITS DUTY and the Cases Decided Thereon. By R. J.
SUTCLIFFE. Stevens. 7_s._ 6_d._ net.

MEDICAL

REMINISCENCES OF THREE CAMPAIGNS. By SIR ALEXANDER OGSTON, K.C.V.O.,
LL.D., Surgeon in Ordinary to the King in Scotland. Hodder &
Stoughton. 16_s._ net.

DEMENTIA PRÆCOX AND PARAPHERNIA. By Professor EMIL KRAEPELIN, of
Munich. Translated by MARY BARCLAY. Edited by G. M. ROBERTSON,
Lecturer on Mental Diseases in the University of Edinburgh. E. and
S. Livingstone. 15_s._ net.

LETTERS TO A YOUNG MAN ON LOVE AND HEALTH. By WALTER M. GALLICHAN.
Werner Laurie. 4_s._ 6_d._ net.

MILITARY

MY WAR MEMORIES, 1914-1918. By GENERAL LUDENDORFF. Two vols.
Hutchinson. 34_s._ net.

A PRIVATE IN THE GUARDS. By STEPHAN GRAHAM. Macmillan. 10_s._ net.

ESCAPING FROM GERMANY. By EDWARD PAGE (Private R.M.L.I.). Melrose.
4_s._ 6_d._ net.

PHILOSOPHY

EMERSON AND HIS PHILOSOPHY. By J. A. HILL. Rider. 3_s._ 6_d._ net.

POETRY

REYNARD THE FOX. By JOHN MASEFIELD. Heinemann. 5_s._ net.

MORE POEMS FROM THE CHINESE. Translated by ARTHUR WALEY. Allen &
Unwin. 3_s._ and 4_s._ 6_d._ net.

A MUSE AT SEA. By E. HILTON YOUNG. Sidgwick & Jackson. 2_s._ 6_d._
net.

POEMS IN CAPTIVITY. By JOHN STILL. Lane. 7_s._ 6_d._

THE PHARSALIA OF LUCAN. Translated by the Right Hon. EDWARD RIDLEY,
sometime Fellow of All Souls College, Oxford, and one of the Judges
of the High Court of Justice. Two vols. A. L. Humphreys. £2 2_s._
net.

THE GIFT. By M. CECILIA FURSE. Constable. 2_s._ 6_d._ net.

THE COLLECTED POEMS OF LORD ALFRED DOUGLAS. Martin Secker. 7_s._
6_d._ net.

FORGOTTEN PLACES. By IAN MACKENZIE. Chapman & Hall. 3_s._ 6_d._ net.

POEMS NEWLY DECORATED. The Poetry Bookshop. 1_s._ net.

POEMS OF THE DAWN AND NIGHT. By HENRY MOND. Chapman & Hall. 3_s._
6_d._

THE SUPERHUMAN ANTAGONISTS. By SIR WILLIAM WATSON. Hodder &
Stoughton. 5_s._ net.

POLITICS, ECONOMICS, Etc.

A PRIMER OF NATIONAL FINANCE. By HENRY HIGGS, C.B. Methuen. 5_s._ net.

BRITAIN'S OVERSEA TRADE. By W. H. HOOKER. Effingham Wilson. 3_s._ net.

INDUSTRY AND TRADE. By ALFRED MARSHALL. Macmillan. 18_s._ net.

THE MASTERY OF THE FAR EAST. The Story of Korea's Transformation and
Japan's Rise to Supremacy in the Orient. By ARTHUR JUDSON BROWN.
Bell. 25_s._ net.

THE ORIGIN OF GOVERNMENT. By HUGH TAYLOR. Blackwell. 10_s._ 6_d._ net.

THE UNFINISHED PROGRAMME OF DEMOCRACY. By RICHARD ROBERTS. Swaithmore
Press. 6_s._ net.

SPEECHINGS AND WRITINGS OF LORD SINHA. Madras, G. A. Natesan & Co.
Rs. 3.

THE GREAT ADVENTURE. Present-day Study in American Nationalism. By
THEODORE ROOSEVELT. Murray. 6_s._ net.

BOLSHEVISM. The Enemy of Political and Industrial Democracy. By JOHN
SPARGO. Murray. 7_s._ 6_d._ net.

CATTLE, AND THE FUTURE OF BEEF PRODUCTION IN ENGLAND. By K. J.
J. MACKENZIE, Reader in University of Cambridge. Preface and
Chapter by F. H. A. MARSHALL, Fellow and Tutor of Christ's College
and University Lecturer in Agricultural Physiology. Cambridge
University Press. 7_s._ 6_d._ net.

EUROPE IN THE MELTING-POT. By R. W. SETON-WATSON. Macmillan. 4_s._
6_d._ net.

RELIGION

A COMMENTARY ON THE BIBLE. Edited by ARTHUR S. PEAKE, M.A., D.D.,
Rylands Professor of Biblical Exegesis in the University of
Manchester. With the assistance for the New Testament of A.
J. GREENE, M.A., D.D., Principal of the Congregational Hall,
Edinburgh. T. C. and E. C. Jack. 10_s._ 6_d._ net.

STUDIES IN THE CONFESSIONS OF ST. AUGUSTINE. By R. L. ATTLEY, Canon
of Christ Church, Hon. Fellow of Pembroke College, Oxford. Robt.
Scott. 7_s._ 6_d._

THE PRIMITIVE TRADITION OF THE EUCHARISTIC BODY AND BLOOD. By
LUCIUS WATERMAN, D.D., Rector of St. Thomas' Church, Hanover, New
Hampshire. Longmans. 9_s._ net.

IDEALISM. By WILLIAM WALKER, A.K.C., Rector of Pattiswick. Heath
Cranton. 3_s._ 6_d._ net.

THE SECRET OF HAPPINESS, or Salvation through Growth. By EDMOND
HOLMES. Constable. 12_s._ 6_d._

THE LONDON
MERCURY

_Editor_--J. C. SQUIRE _Assistant-Editor_--EDWARD SHANKS

Vol. I No. 2 December 1919

EDITORIAL NOTES

Our last notes in this place were written "in the dark." We sketched, in a general way, our attitude, our intentions, and our hopes whilst we were still without more evidence than our private enquiries could produce as to the degree of confidence that our proposals would inspire and the amount of support that we should receive. We are now more fully informed; and we may honestly say that, although our expectations were not, perhaps, coloured by an excessive diffidence, they have been more than realised.

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The extraordinarily cordial reception given us, both by critics in the Press and by our readers, has proved that there is a demand for a paper on the lines which we have laid down, and that our first number was regarded as a satisfactory beginning. We must express our profound gratitude to those--there are hundreds--who have written to us in terms of unqualified appreciation and benevolence, and to the reviewers, whose kindness is more encouraging than they probably know. It now remains for us to attempt to live up to the promises we have made.

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One more thing we must add before we turn to detail. Editors do not normally discuss the economics of their enterprises in public, and nobody wishes that they should. But before the LONDON MERCURY appeared, we made a special effort to start it on a firm basis by securing a large number of Original Subscribers. That effort was remarkably successful; thousands of persons subscribed for a year before they had seen a copy of the paper. These proved by their willingness to buy a pig in a poke that they were thoroughly interested in our scheme; and we are entitled to assume that they will be interested to hear that our initial success has been so great that our immediate future is securely guaranteed. In other words (though much ground remains to be won), we have been spared the wearing and worrying struggle to obtain a position and a "hearing" which so often embarrasses literary and artistic periodicals. A direct result of this is that we shall be under no necessity to experiment hastily, but shall be able to give due consideration to every possible development that occurs to us. A direct implication of it is that should we, in the long run, fail to satisfy the public, we should have nothing and nobody but ourselves to blame. Either our conception would have been proved unpopular or our execution would have been deemed inadequate. It is the most comfortable of situations. That is all we need say on the subject. We have spoken frankly about it (rather than affect an impassive indifference) simply because we think our readers would like us to do so.

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