Mr. Edward Arnold's Autumn Announcements. 5 



to be only a chapter, though an important one, in the story of 

 Human Evolution ; but before the reader has progressed very far, 

 he will begin to realize that the arboreal habitat is not merely one 

 of the conditions, but the central and dominating factor in the 

 whole process. Not that living in trees was in itself sufficient to 

 determine the line of progress in an upward direction. Many 

 classes of animals lived, as many still live, mainly in trees. Mr. 

 Wood Jones, reasoning on lines which would delight the heart of 

 M. Henri Bergson, shows how and why only one of these classes 

 continuously achieved "the successful minimum of specialization," 

 and moved slowly but surely in a direction which ended in Man, 

 and not in a Lemur or a Sloth. 



There is much more in the matter than this, but the whole 

 argument of the book does not admit of being summarized briefly. 

 Much of it is based on data supplied by Comparative Anatomy, of 

 a character which only experts can appreciate, but the author 

 has skilfully and considerately marshalled his material in such a 

 way that the successive steps in the development which he proves 

 to have taken place can be followed and understood by any 

 intelligent layman. 



LOVE, WORSHIP, AND DEATH. 



SOME RENDERINGS FROM THE GREEK ANTHOLOGY. 

 By SIR RENNELL RODD, G.C.M.G., 



BRITISH AMBASSADOR AT ROME. 

 AUTHOR OF "BALLADS OF THE FLEET," "THE VIOI.BT CROWN," ETC. 



Small Crown 8vo. as. 6d. net. 



The poems of which some renderings are here offered to those 

 who cannot read the originals cover a period of about a thousand 

 years. The poets of the elegy and the melos appear in due 

 succession after those of the epic. A little gem from Mimnermus 

 (seventh century B.C.) is the first in the collection, and some lines 

 from Macedonius (sixth century A.D.) mark the close. The inter- 

 pretation of these lyrics has been the author's sole and grateful dis- 

 traction during a period of ceaseless work and intense anxiety in 

 the tragic years of 1914 and 1915 "yet another proof," says a 

 review in the Morning Post, " of the worth of true poetry as manna 

 for the soul in these dread and inexorable days. . . . I he little 

 book is like a vase of rose-leaves, faded yet fragrant, which, as you 

 pour them out, whisper sympathy from the dead to the living. 



