NABO RE 

THURSDAY, AUGUST 19, 1915. 


THE BOOK OF FRANCE. 
The Book of France. In Aid of the French Par- 
liamentary Committee’s Fund for the Relief of 
the Invaded Departments. Edited by Winifred 
Stephens. Pp. xvi+272. (London: Macmillan 
and Co., Ltd.; Paris: E. Champion, 1915.) 
5s. net. 
ope catastrophe which has overtaken the 
world, and threatens to shake the very 
foundations of society, is destined to create a 
literature which has no parallel in history. This 
is inevitable, for—such is the irony of the situa- 
tion—the nations that are engaged in this 
stupendous struggle are the most cultured and 
most civilised peoples on this earth, and to them 
the production and consumption of literary food 
is scarcely less necessary than the production and 
consumption of their daily bread. Appetite 
grows by what it feeds upon. Already the output 
of war books has reached a colossal proportion, 
and imagination boggles at the attempt to estimate 
the dimensions to which it will ultimately attain. 
Many of these books are, of course, ephemeral 
productions, created to satisfy a passing but no 
less insistent demand—books which are no books, 
as Charles Lamb would say—and in no true sense 
literature. But this can in no wise be said of the 
book before us. Although of no great magnitude 
or weight, and put together to serve an immediate 
and special purpose—to raise money, as Miss 
Winifred Stephens tells us, for French sufferers 
from German barbarity—it is of the very quint- 
essence of literature—literature of the purest, 
most delicate, and most highly finished type. It 
is the joint production of some of the most dis- 
tinguished literary craftsmen on both sides of the 
Channel—well-known English stylists translating 
the work of some of the most brilliant writers in 
the French world of letters—and it is adorned by 
the brush and pencil of eminent French artists. 
The work is therefore a timely and significant 
monument to that generous and lively amity which 
binds the two nations together in their joint resist- 
ance to the power of an evil domination, and we 
confidently share the hope—nay, we have the firnt 
conviction—that the book will live and be prized 
as a memorial of an episode in the greatest 
struggle which has ever been fought for light and 
liberty against darkness and oppression. 
Amidst so much that is excellent it seems in- 
vidious to make selections to illustrate the char- 
acter of this remarkable production. The book 


667 

Henry. James, written with the copiousness and 
verve which characterise all his work. It is 
followed by a short article by M. J. H. Rosny 
ainé, on British character and policy, translated 
by Mr. Thomas Hardy, in which, in a few preg- 
nant paragraphs, our national excellences and 
shortcomings are dealt with in a manner as dis- 
criminating and tactful as it is just and true. An 
essay on the mentality of the Germans, by M. René 
Boylesve, translated by Dr. W. G. Hartog, is a 
keen and incisive psychological analysis of the 
Teutonic mind, written with detachment, and 
wholly dispassionate—an admirable example of the 
clear, penetrative insight of French criticism of 
the highest order. How true it all is Germany 
will yet come to realise in the awakening which 
is inevitably in store for her, no matter what the 
fortune of war may bring. Perhaps the most 
arresting and striking contribution to the work is 
the “Debout pour la Derniére Guerre!” by M. 
Anatole France, done into nervous, palpitating 
English by Mr. H. G. Wells. How true is all 
this ! 
“The prophetic nightmares of our scientific 
fantastics are being lamentably realised ; they come 
about us monstrously alive, surpassing the horror 
of Dis, Malebolge, and all that the poet beheld in 
the Kingdom of Misery. But it is not Martians 
but German professors who accomplish these 
things. They have given this war a succession of 
forms that testify continually to their genius for 
grotesque evil, first the likeness of the water- 
spout and typhoon that brought them to the Marne 
and defeat irreparable, then the sullen warfare of 
the caverns, then the conflict of metals and 
chemicals. . . . A philosophical doctor, who sits 
beside me and reads as I write, interrupts: ‘ Be 
certain,’ he says, ‘that when they abandon that 
last method they will take to bacteriological war ; 
after the poison gas and the jet of fire they 
will fight as disease cultures. We shall have to 
create in every country a Ministry of Anti-Teutonic 
Serums.’ And to this their science has brought 
them! I recall the mot of our good Rabelais: 
‘ Knowledge without conscience is damnation.’ ” 
And how beautiful and how sublime is the in- 
vocation with which the whole ends! 
“© Britain, Queen of the Seas and lover of 
justice; Russia, giant of the subtle and tender 
heart; beautiful Italy, whom my heart adores; 
Belgium, heroic martyr; proud Serbia; and 
France, dear Fatherland, and all you nations who 
still arm to aid us, throttle and end for ever this 
hydra, and to-morrow you will smile and clasp 
hands across Europe delivered.” 
The short essay by M. Remy de Gourmont, 
translated by Mr. Thomas Hardy, gives a vivid 
opens with an appreciation of France by Mr. sketch of the condition of that fair land which has 
NO. 2390, VOL. 95] 
Gc 
