BOOKS OF THE DAY

Dominion, Volume 11, Issue 123, 16 February 1918, Page 11

BOOKS OF THE DAY

"Nothing of Importance." Captain Bernard Adams, the author of "Nothing of Importance" (lUethuen and Co.), was wounded in February last year- whilst leading his men in an attack on the Western front, and died the next day in a field hoßpital. Ho had a. brilliant career at Malvern College and at St. John's College, Cambridge, and wlion the war broke out . was Warden and Assistant Educational Adviser at the' Hostel for Indian Students at South Kensington. His ultimate purpose was missionary life in India, but in November, 1914, he joined up as lieutenant of a Welsh regiment, and went to tho front in October, 1915. Wounded in June, 1910. lie returned .to England, only to go out to the front again early iu January, 1917. He was one of the many young-Eng-lishmen —he was only twe:il,y-qi\ when he met his end—of high educational attainments and fervent Christian faith who have deemed it their first, and most solemn duty to tako a personal and active 'pnrt i" Orcnt C»w. "Tell them I'm all right," was the last message he gave the nurse for his people. He died, as the writer of the biographical preface to the bonk remarks,'"With as quiet a mind and as surrendered ,a will as he had lived." The book ho wrote presents n series of pictures of life at the front during-a period when "nothing, of importance" (from the official military point of view) occurred. He gives us' picturesque descriptions of scenes in billets, of incidents m tho trenches, of the l incessant and often deadly game of sniping, of the wearisome preparations of mines, of patrol engagements, and minor trench raids, which all keep the soldier occupied during the intervals of big "pushes" or equally ; important defensives. The dreariness, the pathos, the heroism, t-hn drama, tragedy,: and comedy of war are all alike reflected in narrative which exhibits a keen grasp of the realities of war as the author witnessed th°m. As in so miiny other books written by. British- officers, the' utmost admiration is expressed for the grim i patience, the stern determination, tho heroism of the British ranlc and file. The spirit of humorous resignation in which the men accept the miseries of trench life, tho helpfulness of the British soldier's ever-nresent sense of humour, are exemplified in almost every chapter. It is only when reading such a book as this—one of the very best Of its kind I have yet come across—that one grasps tho real significance of the splendid work which is done by our men in the intervals of those treat anrl momentous, engagements which are described in detail by the war correspondents. In his concluding chapter the Author philosophises on war in general. He sternly denounces the "cheap journalism" which glorifies war. War is to him a thing unutterably vile. Why then did a Christian go forth to play his part in war, to use .this "vile'instrhment"? . , It was because a. people look up the rile instrument arid uraed it from ti desire of aiiw-cr.' Because they-■trampled on justice, and..challenged us to thwart them;.. .Because they, willed war for the sake of'wrongj hecatiso t.hey said that £orco is master of the world, and they set out to prove it. ... .1 knew that war/was vile before.l went into it. [ have seen it. I do not .\lter my opinion. . . . Whnt difference -locs it nuke that I have experienced it? It makes no difference. Let no one fear that our j sacrifice has been in vain. We have ' already won what we are fighting for. | The' will for war, that aggressive power, : with all the cards on its side, prepared, j striking at its own moment, has already failed Against a spirit, weaker, unprepared, taken unawares. We are fighting from just motives, and we have already baulked injustice. Ag?ressi7o force,'the power that took up the cruel weapon of "ivar, has failed. No one ran ever say (hat his countrymen have laid down their lives in vain. , . , ! The prevention of future wars, tho triumph of Good over Evil, win only come, argues the author—and that it will come ho is certain—"when we shall follow the . Man who has conquered j War's last, weapon, Death; and then j War's walls of steel will waver, cringe, I and fall, melted away before' the fire ,of LOVE." The book contains some useful maps and. diagrams, and haß for frontispiece a portrait of the author. (N.Z. price 7s. 6d.) ... The Canteeners. In "The Canteeners" (John Murray per Whitcombe and Tombs) Miss Agnes Dixon gives a lively account of the admirable work done by the English ladies who went to France to conduct the free canteens, so many of which have been established in France under the name "Cantines des Dames Anglaises," under the aegis of the London Comlnittee of tho French Red Cross. The author served for some time, at Troyes, and afterwards at Hericourt, at the great railway, junction at Le Bourgot, and elsewhere. She.writes well, having a special gift for character-drawing, and humorous touches are ' agreeably fre-quent.-Miss Dixon's admiration for les poilus is evidently very sincere. She never tires of praising the "courage, patience, modesty, and chivalry" _ of the French soldiers, and is especially i struck by their doggedness and grim determination to rid their beloved I patrie of the foul and cruel invader. The book contains some interesting sketches : of the French peasantry, who hear the innumerable discomforts and losses brought about by the war with such stoical calm. The author wont down as far as Belfort, and gives some interesting notes on tho less-known Southern French front. Also she has a keen and sympathetic eye for tho beaijtios of Nature. ' One day, with an English coworker, slio explored the hilly woodland at the back of Hericourt: Near the crest wo picked bunches of blue scilla, which was flowering freely among the dead leaves, and at the top the-first .violet., Violets and wild daphiio gnowiiig up against tho most murdorous wire' entanglements you.' can possibly imagine! . How could tho violet choose such company? But it lmd its'back to them, and its little faco was turned to the sun and the woods—perhaps it . was 'unconscious of their proximity, and did not. even hear the drono of the guns going on almost.without -tensing. To the pure all things aro' pure, and perhaps tho guns sounded to it like the distant humming of hoes. - Despite tho Entente Cordialo there are still many English people \vho fail to understand the French passion I'or les oscargots (odible snails). Tho popular English idea is, I am afraid, that a Frenchman goes round his garden picking up snails and putting them forthwith into a frying-pan. As a matter of fact, tho proper preparation of les escnrgots is quite a serious function. Says Miss Dixon: Onn day on.r mixlecin-chof came in beaming. . . Ho was treating himself lo a special dejeuner with his wifo. We havo since heard that ho has just been given' a military medal, and the lunch Iwas in honour of this. He wanted our "sympathy" in anticipation—"escai-goU, tali!" He was going to lunch on escargots,

very special, yellow ones, from the south of France, "ancient Romans," I'think he said. "You catch them and place thorn in a well-warmed arid lighted apartlnont, and for three weeks yon starve them." :"Ohi monsieur," wo said, "how cruel!" "Iv T ot at all," ho replied, ''they tnsto better that way. Next you lioil them in milk, and when they drop out of their shells vou chop tliein -up, mix them with cream' and "butter and green 1 fluvoarings, such as mint, WT«ley, sage. They must be eaten TxnliDg' hot. and when they aro served you pick out tho contents with a special .fork." (The doctor, "Liber" may here interject, omits to state thnt t.lio chopped i>nails aro put back into and served in. shells.) "Of oonrsi!," continued the medacin-cliof, "I am not gourmand moi, I only eat one dozen and half—a gouirmand lie ent four, five dozen." . Miss Dixon's very readable book contains a number of excellent, illustrations from photographs of scenes at the canteens, and of various of French, soldiers. A capital little book. (Price, 4s. 6d.). r I .