Jewish prejudice consciously depreciated Christ and His message, 'Talmudising Him'; and his analyses of the influence of Greek and Hebrew scholarship upon Christian thought and doctrine are effective. The particular interest of the work, however, comes with the last chapter, which, exploiting an earlier version of Josephus than had hitherto been used, brings further evidence of Jewish views of the mission of Christ. Incidentally, it asserts that the thirty pieces of silver went to Pilate, and not to Judas; but the whole chapter, whether its discoveries are reliable or not, is stimulating and alluring.

It was a happy thought to add to Mr Kipling's long series of works a selection from the speeches delivered by him during the last twenty-one years; for 'A Book of Words' (Macmillan) is at once characteristic of its author-the tricks and ways of expression that we have loved live again here--and it gives him to us without such cloak as the story-teller, whether in verse or prose, is generally bound to wear. Not all of these thirty-one speeches are of a similar quality; as, indeed, could hardly be expected of mortal man; but all are addressed with humour and earnestness to sympathetic audiences on special occasions. Sometimes flashes come of the power that was brilliant in 'Many Inventions' and 'Barrack Room Ballads'; as in the passage about Jonathan Swift, in the speech upon 'Fiction,' addressed to the Royal Society of Literature :

'He consumes himself, and perishes in utter desolation. Out of all his agony remains one little book, his dreadful testament against his fellow-kind, which to-day serves as a pleasant tale for the young under the title of "Gulliver's Travels." That, and a faint recollection of some baby-talk in some love-letters, is as much as the world has chosen to retain of Jonathan Swift, Master of Irony. Think of it! It is like tuning-down the glare of a volcano to light a child to bed.'

It is the Kipling touch.

In their book on 'The Gurkhas, their Manners, Customs and Country' (Lane) Major W. Brook Northey and Captain C. J. Morris have a purpose beyond that expressed in the title: a purpose to be commended.

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later chapters which deal generally with the art-life of the great insular-Dominion make rather a wider appeal; and Australians over here should like it. Of more general interest and value are Mr Hector Bolitho's 'The New Zealanders,' and 'The Australian Bush' by Miss Mary E. Fullerton in the same series. To flit to another part of the Empire, 'Ceylon Past and Present' (Hurst and Blackett) proves Major C. M. Enriquez to be an enthusiast, but neither shallow nor undiscerning. He has been moved by the ancient ruins of Ceylon to recall what has been there; and to estimate what is, and what still may be. He has made an industrious endeavour to get to the truth about the island of Cinnamon; and succeeds in making the country appear attractive, especially to archæologists, for the Cinghalese forests still have results to yield to those who wisely seek them; while the races inhabiting the island, with its flora and fauna, have many peculiar interests to disclose. It is a fairly comprehensive book, and should be a lure to travellers to visit an island not so well known as it ought to be, in spite of its being on the high-road of the

ocean.

It is a bad business that no more romance is to come from the humorous, imaginative pen of Donn Byrne; for although 'Destiny Bay' (Sampson Low) belongs, on the whole, to his lesser work, it is fine stuff, penned with humanity, sense of beauty, and comic vision. Incidentally it shows the oneness of Ireland whenever the Irish themselves forget their divisions; for although the chief man of the tale, Kerry MacFarlane, and the fascinating persons associated with him generally, play their game in Ulster and enjoy the singing of the 'Boyne,' they still are close of kindred to the Irish of everywhere else. This novel is rich with out-of-door activities, love of horses and fisticuffs, and each of its nine episodes, the long and short, goes with zest and glow. It is a truism as old as the earliest anthology that no literary selection can please everybody; and so long as the choice has not been frightfully bad, the best thing generally is to say 'Thank you,' and be done with it. We can commend the collection of 'Great French Short Stories' (Benn) which Mr Lewis Melville and Mr Reginald Hargreaves have compiled. They have not failed to

INDEX

TO THE

TWO HUNDRED AND FIFTY-FIRST VOLUME OF THE
QUARTERLY REVIEW.

[Titles of Articles are printed in heavier type. The names of authors of
articles are printed in italics.]