New-York tribune. [volume] (New York [N.Y.]) 1866-1924, 1904-12-31

A New and Complete Translation from the
Russian, by Constance Garnett, In three vol
aAe e. ''0' DO' 3D. 'l'' 'o@ Mcclure Phillips
We glad TO have this new translation of
''War and Peace" made from the original by
Constance Garrett, and issued in three volumes
which, II not luxuriously printed. have at ell
events the virtues Of good paper and clear
type. The book appears at an apt moment
1t is profoundly interesting. with the reverbera-
tons of the great conflict in the East sounding
in our ears. to turn once more the pages Of this
extraordinary epic. eloquent of the Slav
character We are told now and then how the
Russians are fighting. Nothing that we ara
told can SO carry US to the heart of the matter
as War and Peace carries US. Look at ran
dom through these dramatic pages and you hit
upon some episode thrilling with the passion and
the awfulness of battle and all that goes with
it. The chapter in which Pierre and five other
prisoners are taken out to be shot, the brink
OF pit dtgged in a garden, is too long to quote
intact. but We must reproduce some passages
from this masterpiece Of tragic realism:
The convicts went up to the post, stopped there,
and while the sacks were being 9rougat, hey
looked dumbly about them, as q wild beast at bay
kept on crossing himself, the other scratched his
back and worked his lips into the se1nbiance of a
daged their eyes. PIT The sacks over their heads
and bound Them TO the post .,-..- $4,000
A dozen shaTp shooterS. with muskets, stepped
out OF the ranks with firm, regular tread, and
away not 10 see what was coming There was a
sudden bang and rattle that seemed 10 Flerre
louder than the most terrific clap Of thunder. and
he looked round. There e cloud Of smoke, and
the French soldiers. with trembling hands and
The next two were led up. These two, too. looked
at every Rs and the SANE same W %n ege ony
begging for protection, and plainly unable 70 under-
n 6aq be Ii In it, because they only knew What
their HE was 70 theIn ano SO cou!q not uQerS tu
the a o0uia not Oss'S' 'hS' 1t 00iu '0 'A'H ''
Pierre tried not to look, and again turned away;
the pale and frightened faces of the Brenchme.
again doing something at the post, and baking
each other with their trembling hands.
Like the rest. this htth man seemed calm: He
wrapped his dresstn sing. Owl RI, round him. and
When they bound UP his eyes, Of himself he
m ds ben the n6eo then bro RqF ff
the posi- he stasgered back and hs as
h w an6 a0d back quietly ne with his
feet put down synnmetrcally Pierre never took his
nient III he mad made anu @-' ' ''D
The word Of command must have sounded. and
Pierre however earnestly he tried to recolect it
afterwara had not heard the SLIGHTEST sounds l
denly fall back the cords. blood oozing in
% ose o te o weg 'f 6e angs bo o
the factory lad sit down. his head falling unnat-
Up to the post No one hindered him Men with
pale and frightened faces were doing something
round the factory lad There old whs-
kered Frenchman whose lower jaw twitched all
the while he united the cords. The body sank
down. The soldiers. with clumsy haste, dragged
It from the post and showed It into the Dit.
All of them clearly knew, beyond all doubt. that
they criminals. who must make haste to hide
the traces Of their crime.
Pierre glanced into the PIT and saw that the fac
tory lad was lying there with his knees up close
TO his head. and one shoulder higher than the
other. And that shoulder was convulsiveIv
rhythmicely falling. rising and falling. But spade
fus of earth were already falling all the
body. One of the soldiers. in voice OF rage ex-
esperation ard pain. shouted 10 Pierre TO stand
aside. But Pierre did not understand him. and
still stood at the post. and drove him away.
To reread this book Just now IS to realize
once more how deep Tolstoy's feelings go where
the question Of war is concerned. He is more
the fanatic than he was when he wrote
War and Peace But the book reminds US that
the humanitarian in him was born when he was
born. The fervor OF the literary artist which
is everywhere disclosed in this novel cannot
conceal the passionate sympathy for mankind
which Tostoy, even IN his most strictly artistic
moods. has unfailingly preserved.