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ANDOR is their watchword noblesse oblige their code; yet even so, to the best of them "life was deep and dark and dam' funny." The younger generation, portrayed with great insight in John Galsworthy's "The White Monkey," the second instalment of which appears in the Magazine this month, tries to make intelligent use of its freedom, but steps precipitately into the age-old problems that never did seem to have any solution. With the utmost clearness Galsworthy applies the modern attitude toward an ancient difficulty and produces a situation that every one will recognize as intensely real and up to date. He handles it with the boldness that youth itself prefers.

Of course it's the old problem of the relaThe peotions between men and women. ple of the background of this story-people of "The Forsyte Saga"-fought out the same difficulties according to the tenets of their age. They lost a great deal, but some of them kept a flash of that ecstasy which Stuart P. Sherman says both Wells and Galsworthy make the basic test of right relations. Much that they lost lay in the realm of material things—a realm less valued by the generation that succeeds them. Whether or not the change in standards will save youth from equal losses is a question not lightly to be answered.

In Which Soviet Bests Chautauqua Chasing U-boats in a balloon is all right. But lecturing before a safe, sane, and respectable 100-per-cent American audience is not without its terrors. This is not our own inexperienced opinion but that of a man who has done both. Not to be classed with the "professional wind-jammers" whom he describes in his article "Quenching America's Mental Thirst" is Gregory Mason, who has been giving the public expert information on some of the most perplexing subjects of the day. His long trips as spe

On the other hand, that institution regarded with horror by the greater part of the Chautauqua audience—the soviet government of Russia-proved not at all formidable when Kermit Roosevelt and his mother crossed Siberia and Russia on their return from the East. Shortly after completing the trip around the world upon which Captain Roosevelt encountered the adventures related in the second part of "In the Land Where the Elephants Are," in this number, business called him again to the East. The travellers visited Japan, China, Manchuria, Siberia, and Central Europe, and their sole luggage consisted of three suitcases and a vacuum bottle. Captain Roosevelt will relate the story of his journey on the TransSiberian Railway and into the heart of Russia for SCRIBNER's readers in an early number. Among the interesting experiences on the trip was a complete performance of the famous Russian ballet done to the tune of one piano, the orchestra being on strike. Strikes, it seems, we have with us always, even in the depths of communism.

The war finds reflection in two contributions to this number-both by young

The realistic and unpoetic side of war appears in Thomas Boyd's story, "Unadorned," the second of a series planned under the title of "Points of Honor," following in the tradition of his much-talked-of war novel, "Through the Wheat." The author has another novel under way, which is to be called "Dark Clouds," and will deal with the decade 1850-1860, give a fresh view of life on the Mississippi, and outline a psychological study of the formative years of a youth's life.

Showing Up the Older Generation

Up until now the older generation has made a miraculous escape. Its wild ways have gone unprosecuted, and it has had the privilege of hurling endless maledictions at the younger set and generalizing about things that won't bear generalization, with scarcely a return blow to trouble its equanimity.

But this is the end. Two authors rise to protest the sanctity of age. Leigh Morton, a young New Englander whom Radcliffe never caught except by the left hind heel, being an observing young lady, saw that mothers-in-law assume a divine right and operate brainlessly in a day when divine right is lower than the German mark and brains are required even in family relations. It struck the author that she might play the showman, so she wrote "Mrs. Denton Gets Off," which will cause many Mrs. Dentons to stop and think.

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Then along comes Mrs. Virginia Terhune Van de Water, who believes that the oldsters are proceeding upon the theory that the best defense is a strong attack. At the time of going to press Mrs. Van de Water was ill, but her son Frederic F. Van de Water (F. F. V. of the Herald Tribune) responded nobly to our request for comments on the

his mother. Station FFV broadcasts the following, which led to the writing of "Our Modern Old People," and causes age to retreat in confusion and blushes!

"You are about to listen to Mrs. Virginia Terhune Van de Water" (sounds and static, through which the voice emerges).

"I should be a little more patient with the reproof that my generation directs toward my sons' if Age held up to Youth a glittering record of probity, virtue, repression. As it is, the obloquy heaped upon the Younger Generation sounds to me rather like an effort of my contemporaries to deflect the world's attention from their own misdeeds. I love my sons and my sons' friends.

At times, their frankness, their refusal to approach the problems of life with that obliquity which in my youth was a mark of refinement, takes my breath away a little. And yet, I believe that theirs is a more wholesome attitude than that of most

of my contemporaries. It is certainly more

honest. It is even more tolerant. I don't think that the Younger Generation respects its elders. I don't see why, in the majority of cases, it should.'"

Mrs. Van de Water is the daughter of the Rev. Dr. Edward Payson Terhune and "Marion Harland," and the sister of Albert Payson Terhune and Christine Terhune Herrick, all of whom have made their living by their typewriters, and are passing on the habit to the third generation. Mrs. Van de Water's field has been writing of the intensely dramatic and interesting province of contemporary family life.

Doctor George Ellery Hale, Honorary Director of the Mount Wilson Solar Observatory, and author of "The New Heavens," has been actively engaged in the discovery of what has proved to be the most amazing series of revelations in the history of astronomy, among them those described in his present article, "Sun-Spots as Magnets." The wonderful equipment of the observatory, combined with the remarkable intellectual attainments of the staff of observers, has recently made a vast increase in the known facts of the universe. Much of the new ground covered is explained in Doctor Hale's forthcoming book, "The Depths of the Universe."

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"There are three rules to follow: have

faith, hope, and clarity-and the greatest of these is clarity! I abhor what I call dim writing. The man with something to say should say it clearly, or not at all."-Charles Hanson Towne, speaking from the forum of his literary agency. His poem "Wisdom" follows in the succession of six books of poetry, the best of which will soon be made into a selected edition, and one of which, "Manhattan," has gone through eight editions and can boast of its original manuscript in the Morgan library. Mr. Towne says there is nothing he likes more than discovering a new author. When he got out of the editorial game he fell naturally into the agency business, but with no intention of running an ordinary literary bureau. He was an editor for twelve years, and he now spends his time bringing suggestions to editors and obtaining good material for them. In six months he has turned up six promising

young writers, most of whom came from the West.

Luckily the agency work leaves Mr. Towne free for writing of his own, as his new novel, "The Gay Year," just out, will attest. He is already deep in the next one, and lately returned from Palm Beach, where he went to gather material for it. He says he is sending his latest heroine there, in her quest for social climbing. "It is the short road to Newport-yet why one should wish to climb at either place is a mystery to me. Yet any phase of life interests me. The poor rich are as absorbing as the rich poor. I want to do a satirical novel of so-called society."

And Louis Dodge, who not so long ago wrote one of the best dog stories extant-it was called "Nancy, Her Life and Death"admits that he, too, is writing another novel. His delightful serials "Bonnie May" and "A Runaway Woman were among the most widely approved tales that ever ran in this magazine. We asked him, in connection with his poem "The Prison," to tell us what he thought of modern poetry, and he sent us the following:

"I'd be glad if any one might consider this discovery of mine: a poem a day keeps the devil away. Don't you think that's good? I'd recommend the books of Riley

dale and David Morton-do look up his Ships in Harbour,' with a poem about the Bethlehem oxen in it, and one about a dog. I like free verse, too, when it's genuine. I even like Mr. Masters's 'Spoon River Anthology,' though perhaps it isn't poetry. I've never known of his calling it that, though maybe he does. Poetry may be any one of a million things, but it must be beautiful in some way. I doubt if anything is true if it isn't beautiful. This isn't to say there aren't lots of illusions which make interesting literature-ugly illusions, I mean. But poetry is something different. It's the essence of wisdom. I wrote 'The Prison' because I thought I had found a

simple way of stating a matter which has been obscured by lots of queer people."

William Crary Brownell's three papers on "Style," which commence in this number, follow upon two earlier series which appeared some years ago, and which are published in book form under the titles of "Standards" and "Criticism." Mr. Brownell says that the second article, which will appear in the June number, is really a slam at the younger generation. Style, he finds, when applied to more general fields than the literary and sartorial, hasn't a great deal to do with the life of to-day.

As to the articles, the author says that they really wrote themselves. They were deduced from observations and considerations, and arrived at more or less unconsciously by a cumulative process.

A Literary Find

A year ago we published McCready Huston's first story, and, unlike too many new authors, he has continued steadily sending us good stuff. No one outside of an editor's office can have any idea what that means, especially when the "stuff" gets better and better. The number of "onestory men" would be bound to seem discouraging to editors on the lookout for real writers, were it not for an occasional "find" who has more than one story in him. Mr. Huston's stories are produced in the intervals between his tasks at forming public opinion as conductor of the editorial page of the South Bend (Ind.) Tribune. (Continued on page 7)