The Goldfish: The Confessions of a Successful Man. Anonymous. [The Century Company, New York.] Proves conclusively, for anyone who may need such proof, that the “successful” man misses those adventures which William James ascribed to poverty: “The liberation from material attachments; the unbribed soul; the manlier indifference; the paying our way by what we are or do, and not by what we have; the right to fling away our life at any moment irresponsibly—the more athletic trim, in short, the fighting shape....”

Walt Whitman: A Critical Study, by Basil De SÉlincourt. [Mitchell Kennerley, New York.] Any biography of Whitman which reveals a large understanding of his big poems of personality is notable. De SÉlincourt proves in his closing sentence that he knows his subject, for it is the clearest and best characterization of the poet that has ever been written: “He rises ... above nationality and becomes a universal figure: poet of the ever-beckoning future, the ever-expanding, ever-insatiable spirit of man.”

Socialism: Promise or Menace? by Morris Hillquit and Rev. Dr. John A. Ryan. [The Macmillan Company, New York.] A sophomoric debate between two dogmatists that ran in Everybody’s Magazine. One instinctively feels that two evils are guised as panaceas and he will have neither of them. The church, of course, has the last word—in the book.

Penrod, by Booth Tarkington. [Doubleday, Page, and Company, New York.] At rare intervals we have a book on boys that holds the genuine boy boyeousness. The Real Diary of a Real Boy captivated us with the story of big little boys in a village; The Varmit told us of the irresponsible capers of little big boys in “prep” school; and now we have Penrod, in which Mr. Tarkington tells us much—well, of just boys.

Joseph Pulitzer: Reminiscences of a Secretary, by Alleyne Ireland. [Mitchell Kennerley, New York.] An extraordinarily interesting piece of Boswellizing.

Sadhana: The Realisation of Life, by Rabindranath Tagore. [The Macmillan Company, New York.] A quiet essay full of the queer charm of conquered strength memorable for at least one splendid sentence: “... life is immortal youthfulness, and it hates age that tries to clog its movements.” But Tagore is vying too much with Tango just now among people who can neither orient nor dance.

The Meaning of Art, by Paul Gaultier. Translation by H. & E. Baldwin. [J. B. Lippincott Company, Philadelphia.] What is art? This book gives the best answer that we have read, but when the author is psychological he is wrong, in most cases. He has a rare faculty of compelling one to read between his lines, and argue things out with oneself.

The Deaf: Their Position in Society, by Harry Best. [Thomas Y. Crowell Company, New York.] An astonishing compilation of facts and figures by a social economist who makes a morbid subject interesting to a healthy citizen unafraid of truth about life.

Hail and Farewell: Vale, by George Moore. [D. Appleton & Company, New York.] A completion of the most fascinating autobiography in the English language.

American Policy: The Western Hemisphere in Its Relation to the Eastern, by John Bigelow. [Charles Scribner’s Sons, New York.] Cautious discussions that respect diplomatic red tape interest patriotic pedants but bore personalities who are concerned with bigger things than national policies.

The Fortunate Youth, by William J. Locke. [John Lane Company, New York.] Has all the Locke charm—and all the Locke prettinesses. The dish has been served so often that it has become a bit tasteless. Most accurately described as the kind of story whose heroine is always called “princess” and whose hero rises from the slums to make flaming speeches in parliament and achieve the “Vision Splendid.” It will probably run into ten editions and bring much joy. The Wonderful Visit, by H. G. Wells. [E. P. Dutton and Company, New York.] A reprint of a story published in 1895 which shows Mr. Wells in the very interesting position of groping toward his present altitude.

Sweetapple Cove, by George Van Schaick. [Small, Maynard, and Company, Boston.] The kind of sweet, gentle love story that a publisher would rather discover than anything Ethel Sidgwick could write. We searched in vain for just one page to hold our attention.

Idle Wives, by James Oppenheim. [The Century Company, New York.] Despite a narrative style that at times fairly suffocates with its emotionality, Mr. Oppenheim has put up a very strong case for the woman who demands something of life except having things done for her.

Bedesman 4, by Mary J. H. Shrine. [The Century Company, New York.] The outline is traditional: an English peasant boy makes his way through Oxford, becomes a brilliant historian and a “gentleman,” and marries a “lady.” But the treatment is fresh and delightful; there is something real about it.

Over the Hills, by Mary Findlater. [E. P. Dutton and Company, New York.] There are no new things to say about a Findlater novel. They are always good.

Sunshine Jane, by Anne Warner. [Little, Brown, and Company, Boston.] Jane has our own theory that one can get what he wants out of life if he wants it hard enough. Though we don’t advocate some of her “sunshine” sentimentalities.

The Full of the Moon, by Caroline Lockhart. [J. B. Lippincott Company, Philadelphia.] As superfluous as The Lady Doc. Those people who are always asking why such books as The Dark Flower should be written ought to turn their questioning to things of this type.

The Congresswoman, by Isabel Gordon Curtis. [Browne and Howell Company, Chicago.] The tale of an Oklahoma woman elected to congress which closes with a retreat—though not an ignominious one—to a little white house with a fireside and a conquering male.

The Last Shot, by Frederick Palmer. [Charles Scribner’s Sons, New York.] A war novel without a hero by a man who has experienced many wars.

The Women We Marry, by Arthur Stanwood Pier. [The Century Company, New York.] One of the most amateurish attempts to meet the modern demand for sex stories that we have seen.

A Child of the Orient, by Demetra Vaka. [Houghton Mifflin Company, New York.] A blend of Greek poetry and Turkish conquest and American progress in autobiographical form, by the Greek woman who wrote Haremlik.

Anybody but Anne, by Carolyn Wells. [J. B. Lippincott Company, Philadelphia.] A mystery story of which the most fascinating feature is the architect’s plan of the house in which it takes place.

The Flower-Finder, by George Lincoln Walton; with frontispiece by W. H. Stedman and photographs by Henry Troth. [J. B. Lippincott Company, Philadelphia.] Worth owning if merely for the end-papers which literally lead you into a spring woods. A comprehensive pocket guide to wild flowers.

Prisons and Prisoners: Personal Experiences of Constance Lytton and Jane Warton, Spinster. [George H. Doran Company, New York.] As Lady Lytton, an enthusiastic convert to militant suffrage, the author received courteous treatment in prison; disguised successfully as a middle-class old maid she was handled shamefully. Everyone who doubts the martyrdom or the intrepidity of the suffragettes ought to read this record.

Women as World Builders, by Floyd Dell. [Forbes and Company, Chicago.] Birdseye views of the feminist movement by a literary aviator whose cleverly-composed snapshots actually justify his cocksure audacity.

Women and Morality, by a mother, a father, and a woman. [The Laurentian Publishers, Chicago.] Men and immorality discussed bravely by two women and a man, without the artistic justification of “getting anywhere.” Karen Borneman and Lynggaard & Co., by Hjalmar BergstrÖm, translated from the Danish by Edwin BjÖrkman; The Gods of the Mountain, The Golden Doom, King Argimenes and the Unknown Warrior, The Glittering Gate, and The Lost Silk Hat, by Lord Dunsany; Peer Gynt, by Henrik Ibsen, with introduction by R. Ellis Roberts. [Mitchell Kennerley, New York.] New volumes in The Modern Drama Series.

What Is It All About? A Sketch of the New Movement in the Theatre, by Henry Blackman Sell. [The Laurentian Publishers, Chicago.] The “art theatre” is explained illuminatingly for those who are vague about the movement. Condensed, to the point, and really informing.

The Beginning of Grand Opera in Chicago (1850-1859), by Karleton Hackett. [The Laurentian Publishers, Chicago.] Mr. Hackett is a man of ideas and he might have written an interesting book by taking “grand opera in Chicago” as his theme. Instead, he has done a hack job with its early history and been given the distinction of tasteful binding and printing.

Tuberculosis: Its Cause, Cure, and Prevention, by Edward O. Otis, M.D. [Thomas Y. Crowell Company, New York.] A revised edition of an old, popular book “for laymen.” Abounds in hard, cocksure rules that, if followed, ought to discourage any germ whose host could outlive it. A valuable work for persons who must have a definite programme to guide them in fighting an always individualized disease.

Roget’s Thesaurus of English Words and Phrases, classified and arranged so as to facilitate the expression of ideas and assist in literary composition, edited by C. O. Sylvester Mawson. [Thomas Y. Crowell Company, New York.] A revised edition in large type on thin paper.

Richard Wagner: The Man and His Work, by Oliver Huckel. [Thomas Y. Crowell Company, New York.] Between W. J. Henderson’s characterization of Wagner as “the greatest genius that art has produced” and Rupert Brooke’s as an emotionalist with “a fat, wide, hairless face” there ought to be a man worth biographies ad infinitum. Dr. Huckel’s is simply a clear condensation for the general reader of standard biographical material, and is worth while.

The Book of the Epic: All the World’s Great Epics Told in Story, by H. A. Guerber; with introduction by J. Berg Esenwein. [J. B. Lippincott Company, Philadelphia.] The most satisfying compilation in the field that has ever been offered to the young student or general reader.

The Practical Book of Garden Architecture, by Phebe Westcott Humphreys. [J. B. Lippincott Company, Philadelphia.] A weighty chronicle of garden architecture, observations in many lands and under many conditions. “A pick up and browse” book for the nature lover, with delightful illustrations and much interesting general data of sunny gardens, cobble walls, and running streams.