The New York herald., 1921-03-06

A. T'Stertevens.
And above it all the wind carried
snatches of a hymn for which a Sal
walton Army sergeant was beating
time with extended arms.
Peace Perfect peace,
In this dark t0orId OF sin
And the chorus Of tambourine thump-
ers responded i he rhythm OF a
mazurka:
There is green Hill far dDay
without city pai.
"A car passed through the gate and
sent out furry of many-colored
handbills, Make way for the women.'
1t was full to bursting with suf-
fragettes. gesticulating madly to the
playing of a brass band of women in
red felt hats. The whole affair moved
in a prodigious solemnity through the
shower of papers and the blare OF
horns. Having put to flight the pa
tient auditors around Pascal, the auto
mobile took its place in the path lined
on both sides with the inspired and
the elect-neo- Christians. equinoxers,
sky pilots with fingers pointing to
heaven Malthusians fasting Catho-
lies. vegetarians,~ heterodox and ortho-
dox; Universalists and Nonconform-
lists. esoterical or exoterical theoso-
phists, independent or State Commu-
nists. revolutionists or evolutionists-
both equally noisy; Messianicals Tai
midists, Caraists. all long haired. curled
! and big nosed; disciples of Buddha, of
Confucius, of Zoroaster. of Marx"
The authors ironical laughter sounds
louder now than in the Ceres restau-
rant or in the Kropotkin colony. But
it saddens us now. for the apostle be.
gins to lose his faith. His disenchant-
ment is terrible. Then he seeks to
enter into the misery of others to find
consolation"
The reader follows him into the
purlieus of London. No more of sunny
: green fields or open parks: T. Ster-
| tevens drags us among such lament
able crowds as we met in Seven
Among Men" He brings before our
eyes a long procession of the vicious
| and depraved. Pascal is mingled in
the mass and his downfall is fastened
He returns to Paris and earns his
living by selling on the boulevards his
tract on Universal Brotherhood. More
and more reality appears to him only
bitterness. His last illusions fall from
him like the shreds of a rotting gar
ment. His religion OF humanity has
become a torture.
mo longer does he believe IN the
possibility of mans love for his kind
!. Everything ends in selfish
ness" In his extreme poverty he
falls a prey to the frenzies of desire
for every delight that he once knew.
And when Lucy, the cast-off playthng
of rich banker. turns upon him a
face that age has already begun to
despoil he accepts life of dishonor-
able comfort
This book. so impregnated with life
opens as life does, with a dawn of en-
thuslasm and idealism-only to attain
dark materlalistlc end. IL is an
other confession of Child of the
Century" written for the twentieth
as Musset wrote for the nineteenth
Tho aspirations and the philosophy
differ from Musset's. but it is funda-
mentally study OF the same crisis
which all young men have to go
through and whose origin is perhaps
~ much physical as intellectual.
The idea is trcated no longer with
the subjective emotion OF a romantic,
but with the positivism of a radical
modern who has penetrated deeply
into tho secret of existence. The
method has precision and force often
amounting TO brutality. The images
are created very much In the manner
of Zola: the lines are laid In care
fully yet with an extraordinary avoid
ance of elaboration.
Back of the craftsmanship, fresh,
supple and sensitive. ono feels the
working Of a critical intelligence of
severity edged with sarcasm. Since
theological and meta physical Idols have
been demolished, since the eyes of
men have been drawn from heaven to
earth by the more or less conscious
disciples OF Auguste Comte, the end
of life seems TO be life itself. II Is
held to be largo enough, rich and
varied enough, II rouses enough en-
ergy. offers enough intoxication TO
satisfy men who arc not trying TO
follow out a prcconceived plan.
They hurl themselves into tho
stream, thcy take in life through all
their senses, they worship II In all
It's forms. But the ancient conception
OF that which IL just and unjust Is
slow 10 leave the mind, and before
certain distresses. certain ignominies,
ono recoils and one doubts. At such
moments one hears the ioyless laugh
ter whose echoes vibrate. sometimes
family. sometimes harshly. through
the work OF T. Stertevenr.