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the view that a mother-tongue is no less essential than a fatherland to the idea of nationality. There is matter for reflection in the strong statement that "if there be an American nation, it is not independent for the simple reason that it does not possess a national language." Another reason adduced in favour of our native native language is that "the purely English-speaking Irishman has no true historical perspective. For him Irish History begins with the year '98, or the Battle of the Boyne, or the landing of Strongbow. For such short-sightedness the study of the Irish language is an excellent corrective." "The Practical Value of Irish" and "Irish the Master-key to Linguistics" are mainly devoted to an exposition of the value of Irish as a foundation for linguistic studies. By a variety of examples drawn from a very wide range of languages the author makes out a good case for his bold claim that as regards phonetics "the most illiterate Irish speaking peasant towers head and shoulders above the educated Englishman, Frenchman, Spaniard and Italian; while he has several inches to spare beside the German and even the Russian.” He also proves the immense advantage to the student of languages of a knowledge of Irish syntax and morphology. 13. Was it a Marriage? By Edith Staniforth. Bristol: J. W. Arrowsmith, Ltd. (Price 6s.)

The answering of this question by Miss Staniforth makes a very entertaining novel. The story is laid partly in Italy and partly in England and is concerned with the wrong inflicted by her father on Murial Dalton. Murial's accidental discovery of the secret occurs just in time to wreck her happiness and separate her from her lover Guy le Marchant. The rest of the story deals with her consequent suffering and, through her suffering, the development and beautifying of her character. The description of Murial's reconciliation with her father is a fine piece of story-telling. The characters though not worked out in much detail are all interesting studies; the ordinary reader will be sure to like Aunt Lucy and Philip Darrell, though he might like Guy le Marchant the better if his good qualities were less obscured by poetic temperament and passionate love. The story runs along smoothly; the threads of the plot are kept well in hand and

dexterously woven to a happy conclusion. It is a book that will prove a welcome relief to minds distracted by war worries and will be found well worth reading.

By Bede Jarrett, O.P. (Price 2. 6d. net.) Father Bede Jarret urges

14. Meditations for Lay folk. London: Catholic Truth Society. It is certainly very desirable, as in his preface, that lay people should not relinquish meditation to religious as the peculiar inheritance of the latter, but should make frequent use of it to enrich and fortify their spiritual lives. On the one hand, it is really easy; on the other, it is almost essential to acquiring solid holiness. In a Scheme of Meditation given on page 1 Father Jarret gives brief instructions: "Read the first point, or until a thought comes to you that is in some way striking. Then in your own way talk to God." That is the method he suggests, a method as excellent as it is simple. And is there anyone who could not practise it? The meditations he provides, to the number of 150, will be found helpful by many, especially by educated English Catholics for whom they seem to be chiefly intended. They are wisely conceived on a plan quite different from that of the numerous meditation books for religious. They take rather the form of moral and religious essays; subjects such as Study, Music, The Living Wage, Old Age, find a place; and the treatment is such as to set one thinking, ruminating piously, turning over in mind important truths of Faith. There is a stimulus to thought in the freshness with which the ideas are often expressed. We regret that the author did not include a series of meditations on the life and the sufferings of Christ. He is the Way to be followed, the Truth to be meditated on, for all of us-lay and religious. The book is well brought out; though large, it is light in the hand; and the price, half-a-crown, is exceedingly moderate.

15. Historie Graves in Glasnevin. By R. J. O'Duffy. Dublin: James Duffy and Co., Ltd. (Price 2s. net.)

Some books make us wonder why they were ever written, while others, including the present volume, make us wonder why they were not written long ago, so obvious is their practical utility. Mr. O'Duffy, who has for many years been known to students of Gaelic as the painstaking editor

of various old Irish romantic tales, has in this work put together sketches of the lives of nearly two hundred distinguished Irishmen whose dust is Irish earth' and who rest among their own in our famous cemetery. The names are predominantly, though by no means exclusively, those of men "who ventured their all that their country might reap a rich harvest from their sowing the seeds of a virile patriotism." The sketches are popular in style, pleasant and readable, and the book will certainly make a visit to Glasnevin much more interesting Attached to it is a large folding map of the cemetery, clearly drawn, on which the sites of a considerable number of graves are indicated. We regret that the volume was not given a better quality of paper and a cover of more artistic finish.

16. Dolour D'Arcy or The Church Between. By Agatha Le Breton. London: Harrison and Sons. (Price 3s. 6d.)

Here is a welcome addition to our Catholic fiction. It is a strong, well written, and entertaining story dealing with the thoroughly actual question of the Ne Temere decree, and the danger of mixed marriages. The setting is Australian North Queensland; and the descriptions both of scenery and of character are graphic and true. Dolour D'Arcy is an attractive Sydney girl who, while spending a holiday with her cousins, the Moores, falls in love with, and is loved by John Deraway, a Protestant. Dolour is a Catholic, and the manner in which she courageously resists her passion in order to follow her conscience, and the source whence she draws the required strength are well brought out as the story proceeds. Julie Moore is a good study of a Catholic Australian girl. Indeed the Moore family altogether are a fine example of an Irish Australian household where faith is the guiding light, and high ideals are kept steadily in view. A clever plot is brought to a happy conclusion in an unexpected way that will both please and satisfy. The lesson taught by this novel is a needed one not only in America and Australia, but perhaps even in Ireland.

17. Some New Sources for the Life of Blessed Agnes of Bohemia. By Walter W. Seton, M.A., D.Litt. London: Longmans, Green and Co., 1915. (Price 6s. net.)

This book, originally addressed to specialists in Francis

VOL. XLIII.-No. 509.

55

can studies, is now published with a view to a wider audience. It is entitled " new materials" inasmuch as the only information about Blessed Agnes accessible in print consisted of two short lives in the Latin of the Bollandists. Here we have edited a Latin MS. of the fourteenth century and a German version of the fifteenth, chosen amongst several as the most complete and correct, preceded by a dissertation on their value, their setting, and their bearing on some obscure points in Franciscan history. We have also, in German only, four burning letters addressed by St. Clare to Blessed Agnes. "Never before," says the learned editor, "has her life been presented to English readers." It can hardly be said to be so presented now. Probably not so many readers as one would wish will be found to appreciate the fluent fervid medieval Latin; the biographer by the way has one curious classical touch, where he prays that God may guide our course aright "between Charybdis and Scylla amidst the waves of the sea of this life. Fewer still will come to grips with the rugged fifteenth century German. But the book belongs to a class more valuable than any mere popular writing: it represents the toilsome and most precious labour of ransacking libraries and delving into manuscripts. The life is fragrant with the breath of early Franciscan times, ardent with holiness, most appealing in its simplicity. Blessed Agnes, daughter of kings, kinswoman of saints-she was first cousin of St. Elizabeth of Hungary-after two princely matches had been made for her and had come to naught, refused the still more brilliant offers of Henry III. of England and the Emperor Frederic II. to become a Poor Clare; gave all her goods to found a hospital and monasteries; and lived in the very spirit of her vocation, so that she led on earth a life more angelie than human." In the words of her biographer "the inscrutable wisdom of God placed her as a light in the candlestick of the church militant and graciously enkindled her with the fire of His grace, by which she herself burned by the merit of her life and shone brightly as a saving example to others." The book reads throughout as if it were written by a Catholic, except for two notes. One explains that the story of Habacuc and Daniel is to be found in the Apocrypha.

The other, that the psalm Judica me Deus (numbered xliii.) is said "in the Priest's Preparation before the Mass." The custom of identifying a given Sunday by the first words of its Introit is an old Catholic one and therefore not somewhat curious." Lastly, we take it that such a book if published by a Catholic would hardly dispense with an Imprimatur.

VENI, SEQUERE ME

"Follow Me"-'twas but a whisper
As I knelt one day to pray
And it seemed just like an echo
Of the nightingale's sweet lay,
Or the rippling of a streamlet
Making music on its way.

"Follow Me"-strange words! I listened
And a voice seemed low and near,
As I knelt before the altar.

Oh, my heart stood still with fear,
And I hoped it was but fancy
That kept murmuring in my ear.

"Follow Me"-I could not answer.
It would be too hard for me!
Could I leave my life so happy,

From all care and sorrow free?

Yes, the world seemed full of sunshine
In my home beside the sea.

"Follow Me"-again, now clearer!

I could listen then no more.
So I quickly left the Altar
With its little Golden Door,
Where so often I had lingered
When my daily tasks were o'er!

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