Catholic heroine had not been a modern Italian, but the daughter of a Jacobite Scottish chieftain, there might have been some propriety in saying that she was 'leal to the Madonna; but to apply such a word to a daughter of the Mediterranean seaboard is like talking of her 'tartan,' when what is meant is her petticoat. Spenser said that his knights wielded their 'glaives,' because his aim was to transport his readers from the present into a consistent past. He puts himself into a literary costume designedly suited to the remote period in question; but when Mr Austin talks about glaives in one stanza, and about the new French Chassepots in the next, he is like nothing so much as a man who takes a walk down Piccadilly with a Roman sandal on one foot and a Wellington boot on the other. There is a further class of defect which it is necessary to mention also-one which is certainly not peculiar to Mr Austin, but which is in his works conspicuous to an almost unique degree. This is his practice of reckless padding. The more valuable parts of his verse we may compare to blocks of marble; but whenever he has not at hand a sufficient supply of these, or he finds a difficulty in making two or three of them join, he fills in the gaps with any literary mud or rubble which happens to come handy. Sometimes he does this for lack of a rhyme, sometimes for lack of a clause which shall round off a stanza. He thus almost spoils one of the most charming of the passages which we have quoted by speaking of a 'gable's cliff' instead of a gable, because he wants a rhyme for 'if.' Again, when he is speaking of a farewell pledge given by Olive, Mr Austin, solely in order to find a rhyme, tells us that this pledge was given by parting's ledge.' If this is 'a vile phrase,' as we need no Polonius to tell us that it is, what will the reader think of the following incredible line which the author thrusts into a description, otherwise charming, of spring- The pasture's frisky innocents bucked up'? The responsibility for this utterance rests on the word 'up,' which is wanted as a rhyme to 'cup.' In another passage we have padding pure and simple;

'Up came the sun, impetuous and red;

The moon turned deadly pale, fronting her foes;
Refused, spite overwhelming odds and ills,

To share her sway, and died behind the hills.'

Here we have every possible fault compressed into a small space. In the first place the conceit of the moon as the jealous adversary of the sun adds nothing to the effect of Mr Austin's then hurrying narrative, but merely trips up the attention of the reader who pauses, as he must do, to understand it. It is, moreover, a very poor conceit in itself. It contains a gross inaccuracy of expression, which inaccuracy is eked out with a piece of absolute nonsense. Who are the moon's foes? If Mr Austin means anything, she has one foe only, who is the sun. If it is permissible to speak of her foe as her foes, it would be permissible to speak of the wife of a monogamist as his 'wives.' Further, the most careless reader will be at once driven to ask himself what in the world is the meaning of 'overwhelming odds and ills'? If there are any phenomena of nature which put the idea of 'odds' out of the question, surely these are the movements of the sun and moon. And if we put the question of odds aside, what state of mind, we must ask, is possible for any educated human being in which the moon can be pictured as receiving, at the hands of the sun, a series of 'overwhelming ills'? These examples which we have given of the defects of Mr Austin's style are not occasional blots. Similar blots are scattered over every one of his pages, and a careless reader may be pardoned for regarding them as the principal feature of his works.

We are not calling attention to these defects in Mr Austin's style with a view to depreciating his merits. On the contrary we have devoted the larger part of this criticism to showing how various his merits are, and how unusual is the combination of them in the person of a single individual. Our object in dwelling on his defects has been rather to explain the reason why a voice which has so much to utter should in many quarters have met with very inadequate attention; and, by warning the reader of the obstacles which he will encounter in Mr Austin's manner, to induce him to look through these to the matter which lies behind them. Even so, we should have felt reluctant to speak of his faults with severity if it had not been for the ample evidence which he affords us that he is perfectly able to avoid every one of them if he chose. In the whole of his prose works they are all of them conspicuously absent. There he is classically

lucid and classically void of affectation. There there are no lapses from grammar, no superfluous clauses, no affectations of praise, no torturings of the English language into feeble and irritating oddities. The faults in poetry which Mr Austin commits he commits with his eyes open. We have therefore no compunction in speaking of them with corresponding deliberation, more especially as he will probably disagree with us in considering them faults at all. If such is his attitude he will at all events be consistent with his principles; for it is to a deliberate theory of poetical style that we believe his faults to be due. To repeat what we have said already, we believe Mr Austin to be of opinion that, a genius for poetry being given, the first words which occur to the poet will be the best words. We ourselves believe, on the contrary, that, exceptional passages being allowed for, the first words that occur to him are far more likely to be the worst; and of this generalisation we look on Mr Austin's poetry as affording a signal example. We must, however, in parting from him-or, as he himself would say, 'in standing by parting's ledge'--do him the justice to observe that if the gospel which he has to deliver had been less comprehensive and weighty, or less sincere and consistent through all its variety of detail, the defects of his delivery would have been incomparably less noticeable. In his Human Tragedy,' for example, whilst seeking to show, as he does, that the brightest lights of the spirit are darkened by the clouds of failure, he transmutes at the same time this doctrine into its converse, that the darkest clouds of failure have the brightest light for lining. Here we have pessimism defeated and turned into a noble optimism; and we can only regret that a poem which has for its kernel a meaning of this scope and character should interpose between this meaning and the reader those overwhelming odds and ills' of style which its author does not so much lapse into as intentionally cultivate, or at all events refuse to remove.

Art. IX.-THE RIGHT TO WORK.

Of all the proposals put forward by the Socialist party none is more superficially attractive than the demand that the State should make provision for the unemployed. The tragedy of unemployment appeals to all of us. Even those who have been relieved by the generosity of their parents, or by the favour of fortune, from the necessity of working for their living must feel sympathy with the man who is willing to work but can find no one to provide him with employment. That there are many such men in this country and in every country at this moment and at every moment is indisputable, and no one who has the least spark of human feeling can fail to be eager to find some sure means of diminishing their number or of abbreviating their period of unemployment. All this is common ground; it is only when we pass to the question of how to do what we all want done that divergence of opinion arises. There are some people who appear to imagine that every ill that human flesh is heir to can be swept away in the twinkling of an eye by passing an Act of Parliament. Even if they are not prepared to draft this wonderful measure themselves they have not the slightest doubt that it can be drafted, and they are willing to pin their faith to any scheme that is preached with sufficient emphasis or advertised with sufficient skill. When any one ventures to point out that the particular scheme which has momentarily secured their support is no remedy at all, they close the discussion by asking with impatient contempt, What then is your remedy?' They never pause to reflect that progress cannot be secured by blindly following the leadership of the blind, and that it is easier to advertise a quack medicine than to find a real remedy for a long standing disease.

Nor can it be admitted that those who point out the failure of popular panaceas are always under an obligation themselves to propose some positive scheme of reform. Often the only remedy required is a negative one. Part of the trouble from which the world suffers is due to positive wrong-doing, and that cannot be prevented until men are willing to adopt the negative remedy of ab

staining from wrong action. What proportion of our present day troubles may require this negative treatment we need not attempt to consider. It is however worth while to remember that in a certain code of conduct accepted as sacred, now and in past ages, by many millions of men, seventy per cent. of the rules laid down begin with the words 'Thou shalt not.' The importance of thus saying 'No' is not limited to individual conduct. It applies equally to measures proposed by the State. When the community is threatened with Acts of Parliament which would only aggravate the disease they are intended to cure, it becomes the urgent duty of men who love their country to oppose such false remedies to the utmost of their ability, and frankly to say, 'We are not prepared to cure in a moment diseases that have endured for centuries, but we are resolved, so far as our strength permits, to prevent you from making the disease worse.'

There is no pleasure in coming to such a negative conclusion. It is far more agreeable to delude oneself with the belief that all the poverty and suffering and sorrow in the world can be promptly cured by administering to the body politic a few well advertised social pills. Those who fail to succumb to such delusions have to bear the brunt of being called cold-hearted and hard-mouthed, indifferent to the welfare of the poor, and defenders of the wealth of the rich. These accusations are not pleasant, but they must be accepted as part of the day's work by all who venture to point out that some momentarily fashionable remedy is either useless or actively harmful. The best consolation lies in remembering that it is not the business of thoughtful men to shout with the crowd, but to try and find out the truth.

For these reasons it is of the utmost importance that the country should examine, carefully and critically, the proposal put forward by the Labour party for the creation of a statutory right to work.' This proposal is embodied in a Bill introduced into the House of Commons in July last and formally read a first time. The same Bill, if opportunity serves, is to be introduced next session. The essential clause of this Bill declares that,

'Where a workman has registered himself as unemployed, it shall be the duty of the local unemployment authority to provide work for him in connection with one or other of the