to, or taken part in, the discovery of several useful medicines-opium, quinine, mercury, and SO on-and to the early development of surgery. And the same excellent line of study is still continued in the form of hundreds of clinical papers published every week in the medical press.

But the study of causes commenced from without. One root developed from the investigation of the normal machinery of the body, commencing in ancient times, and growing rapidly after Harvey's discovery of the circulation of the blood; and this was a fundamental basis for investigation of abnormal affections of the body. But, if possible, a still more important root sprang from zoology-from the studies of various large parasites of men and of animals made during the last three centuries by Continental workers whose names have never been even heard of by the general public. They dissected, figured, and classed these most extraordinary creatures (of which Nature takes as great care as she takes of man himself), and finally ascertained the often wonderful methods by which they pass from one "host" to another. We should class these men among the very great of humanity, and far above the quacks who take too often that place in public opinion.

The perfection of the microscope about the middle of last century led to the extension of this line of inquiry to small parasites-to the minute animal parasites discovered by Laveran and others in tropical diseases, and to the equally small vegetable parasites called bacteria, the disease-producing properties of which were ascertained by Pasteur, and by the exact methods of Koch. (Lister's work was scarcely a scientific discovery so much as the application of the parasite-theory of disease to the prevention of septic diseases of

wounds, but was not less important for that reason; and Jenner's previous work on vaccination was independent of any theory of patho-genesis.) These fundamental discoveries have led to numerous more recent advances. The causative agents of most of the great infective diseases of men and animals have been definitely ascertained, and can be grown artificially. Preventive "vaccines," based upon Jenner's work, have been prepared for plague, cholera, typhoid and other maladies, and are largely used. The methods by which the causative agents pass from man to man have been elucidated-especially as regards the great insect-borne diseases of the tropics; and the information has led directly to new and potent sanitary measures. The wonderful method of "serum diagnosis" often enables the physician to obtain exact knowledge regarding the nature of the patient's illness; and that of "serum therapy," to treat him with a cure prepared by Nature herself-as, for instance, in the case of the antivenines which are antidote to snake-bite. The whole subject of the reaction of the body against diseases, and of spontaneous cure and acquired immunity, is receiving close microscopical, chemical, and even mathematical study, which is sure to bring improved methods of treatment and prevention; and the long list of chemical compounds is being ransacked with success to find germicidal substances.

With the exception of the case of insect-borne diseases, in which we have been able to lead the way in consequence of our larger tropical possessions, nearly all of the greater advances since the time of Lister have been made on the continent of Europe, especially in Germany and France. We have perhaps held our own with regard to clinical studies, but have been behind-hand in other respects. We were late in attacking bacteriology,

and failed to use Laveran's discovery, even in practice, for nearly twenty years. Outside medicine, I do not see that Britain has taken, or is taking, the lead in many or any of the more recent world-movements in science or invention. The reasons for this are many; and one of them will be found excellently set forth in an article on the "Sporting Life," in The Nation of August 9th, while another one lies in our quaint pre-occupations with party politics. But the chief reason as regards medical science in this country is that such work does not pay the worker. Merely clinical observations often do so, certainly, by leading to an improved medical practice; but deep and exclusive investigation of the more formidable medical problems finds, even if successful, no adequate return to the man who undertakes it. The salaries are wretched-much less than the incomes obtained in ordinary good professional practice and there is little or no pension. But this is not the only disability. The most laborious researches often fail to have any decisive result, while those who conduct them are too often passed over, generally for inadequate reasons, in the The Nation.

filling of the few fairly lucrative posts open to them in this country. The result is that able young doctors generally leave the scientific line on the first opportunity for clinical practice. And, to be frank, this is the simple reason for the defect lamented by the "Manchester Guardian." It is also one reason why such terrible problems as that of cancer still remain unsolved, and why thousands of people living to-day will probably die of diseases which will be found to be preventable or curable when their cause has been ascertained-too late, I fear, to help the people referred to.

Hitherto, this country has been getting its medical research done for almost nothing-that is to say, really at the expense of the enthusiasts who have been willing to sacrifice themselves and their children for the world's good. The attitude is scarcely justifiable; and I hope soon to show what should be done. In the mean. time, the lesson which I read in the proceedings of the Congress is that it is time for Britain to make a change in the treatment of its intellectual workers if it wishes to retain a high place in the respect of the civilized world. Ronald Ross.

Girl readers who are weary of the average girls' story will find "The Sunbridge Girls at Six Star Ranch" by Eleanor Stuart (L. C. Page & Co.) an agreeable and exciting change. Ordinarily it is for boys that the stories of ranch life and broncho-busting are written; but in this story it is a merry group of girls, wisely chaperoned, the "Happy Hexagons" they call themselves because they happen to be six în number who make the journey all the way from New Hampshire to

Texas and enjoy hugely a vacation amid novel surroundings. The story is brightly told and full of incident. There are a half dozen illustrations by Frank J. Murch.

Arthur Ransome's little book on "Oscar Wilde" is an interesting bit of literary criticism and appreciation. It gives the outlines of biography and does not ignore the moral tragedy of his life; but its main purpose is to appraise the value of his literary work,

which it does with at least sufficient enthusiasm. It is a little early for a final estimate of Wilde's place in literature. Perhaps the truth is to be found half way between this ardent appreciation and the disparaging views of the poet's sterner critics. Mitchell Kennerley, publisher.

Followers of the "New Thought" will welcome two books by the late James Allen, one of the ablest expounders and also one of the finest exemplars of that doctrine. "Meditations," edited by Lily L. Allen, brings together, in an attractively printed volume, selections from James Allen's published and unpublished writings, a page for each day in the year, each selection presenting compactly and pungently some reflection upon human conduct and character. "Foundation Stones," printed from one of the last of the author's manuscripts, embodies the fruit of personal experience and long reflection in a series of brief essays upon right principles, sound methods, true actions and speech, and good results. Thomas Y. Crowell Co.

"The Quest of the Best" by William De Witt Hyde, President of Bowdoin College, is a practical discussion of the ethics of boy-life, intended, not for boys, but for parents, teachers, Christian Association workers and others who have at heart the guidance of boys into the best and highest life. As the author explains in his preface, the book originated in his work with a small class of Bowdoin students, his own lectures being submitted to their criticisms and suggestions, and revised and expanded accordingly; while later, delivered as lectures to a large assembly of expert workers with boys, they were further modified or extended by the incorporation of ideas there expressed. The result is a book which, while it is compactly and forcibly pre

sented, embodies the fruits of a wide and varied experience and presents lessons gathered from many different points of view. Its ideals are high; and its methods are sympathetic and sensible. Thomas Y. Crowell Co.

"The Little Window" of Helen M. Hodsdon's little story with that title is a window which a stern and obstinate New England spinster, possessed of the traditional New England conscience, kept closed and shuttered against a younger sister who had disgraced the family by marrying a scapegrace; but which, moved by the pungent preaching of a lecturer whom she heard by chance, she was impelled to open again and so to pave the way to a reconciliation. How the preaching wrought upon her conscience and how the reconciliation was brought about is prettily told. A still more pathetic little story, from the press of the same publishers, the Thomas Y. Crowell Co., is "Their Christmas Golden Wedding," by Caroline Abbot Stanley. This is the story of an aged couple, a Civil War veteran and his wife, who had been separated and established in different homes through the mistaken kindness of their children, but who eloped from their children's care, and re-established themselves in their old home, in season to celebrate together their golden wedding. Readers who remember the combined humor and pathos of the same author's "The First Church's Christmas Barrel," will want to read this little tale, which exhibits the same qualities. Four illustrations by Emily Hall Chamberlin decorate "The Little Window," and four illustrations in color, by Emlen McConnell, interpret the other story.

"Once upon a time we all walked on the golden road: .. we heard the song of the morning stars; we

drank in fragrances aerial and sweet as a hay mist; we were rich in gossamer fancies and iris hopes." So writes L. M. Montgomery in the brief "foreword" prefixed to "The Golden Road," the sixth of the "Anne of Green Gables" series, and upon that beautiful highway of youth she leads the Story Girl and her friends, Cicely and Dan, Peter and Felix, Felicity and Sarah Ray, the luckless and tearful, and a few of their elders, not too old to marry or enjoy a joke, and very pretty is the chronicle of their innocent doings. Eccentricity abounds in Prince Edward's Island and the descriptions of its conduct are as diverting as they can be, and by way of a last touch the Story Girl and her friends conduct a little newspaper of limitless queerness. The last chapter sees the chief characters, old and young, on their way to Paris and a new life, and others are to seek new scenes, and nobody can guess what the next book may bring. Miss Montgomery is as reticent as life itself. "Kilmeny of the Orchard" will always stand first in the affections of those who enjoy Miss Montgomery's work, and in "The Golden Road" she resumes those happy descriptions of winter and summer, seed time and harvest, and thus sets her company of girls and boys against a fair background, not easy to forget. A colored portrait of the Story Girl by George Gibbs serves as a frontispiece and brightens the cover, and the book is dedicated "To Aunt Mary Lawson." L. C. Page & Co.

The title of Mr. John Masefield's "The Story of the Round House" leaves the reader to guess whether railway or ocean is to be its theatre, but the first of its iambic pentameters removes his doubt by a reference to the "watch on deck," and thence forward, to the end of the poem giving the book its name,

one is not allowed to forget the bitter, salt, unchanging sea. Further, there is nothing allusive about this piece of Mr. Masefield's work: he not only calls a spade a spade, but he specifies the exact position of the makers' stamp on the handle; e. g., he is not content to say that his hero, Dauber, who ships as a common seaman that he may learn how to paint the wondrous way of a ship in the sea, "scrubs" the deck. He specifically informs one that he "scrubbed the deck with sand, until his knees were blue with dye from his wet dungerees." This enriches one's vocabulary, but the verse is not poetry, and Mr. Masefield probably knows it much better than any reader can, and having said it, one may forget the flaws and pass to the beauties of the poem. It is a woeful tragedy upon which one is bidden to gaze: the tragedy of a spirit battered by the shock of material things upon its earthly tenement, until at last, thrust forth by a crowning blow, hurling its body from the fore-topgallant yard to the deck, it passes, crying aloud, "It will go on." "A smart young seaman he was getting to be," is his epitaph in the minds of his mates, and the ship sails onward to her berth, "so noble, so superb," and Dauber is forgotten, his cruel nickname all that remains of him. It is a masterpiece of desolation that lies before one's vision as one closes the book. This is a second and revised edition, from which one may draw the agreeable inference that the first was successful. The first of the poems bound with it, "Biography," will not bear condensation, and no lover of true poetry or true poets would patiently endure an attempt to condense it. The pieces filling the latter half of the volume are noteworthy in various ways, but "Dauber" is in its right place, at the head of the rhythmic company. The Macmillan Company.