"STEADY now; this is ticklish business. Is your hand shaky, your vision blurred? Better put this issue away for a bit. And whatever you do, keep it in a cool place. If you leave it behind the kitchen stove, we will not be responsible for the consequences.

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First of all comes Ludovic Naudeau with a heavy load of high-explosive war-talk. He has been to Danzig, had his passport stamped by four officials in succession, talked to the President of the Danzig Free State, argued with Poles and Germans, and found that both were quite right and quite irreconcilable. Two hundred thousand Kachoubs crowded into the Polish Corridor are making European peace-lovers toss in their sleep, and they certainly sound dangerous, even if we are not quite sure what they mean, or who they are, or why.

Lenin and Nietzsche are names to conjure with in any madhouse. With only about half his brain in working order, old Vladimir Iliich the Russian abbreviation for Lenin

raised more Cain than the whole halfdozen secondhand-clothes dealers who are now leaping around on the top of the Communist hog-pile. If this be heresy, read what Nikolai Bukharin says about the present officials in Moscow. Though a fullfledged Comrade and at least a halfbrother in Lenin himself, he has written a regular Walpurgis Night description of modern Russia which is so illuminating that you will do well to put on smoked glasses before reading it, rather than take any chances with your eyes. The same optical equipment will also come in handy when you turn to Stefan Zweig's essay on Nietzsche. Here is an admirable example of emotional criticism, in which the critic flings himself without restraint into the spirit of his subject. We have got to a state

the sermon will be over soon in which genuine enthusiasm is being ruled out by self-conscious judgment, and Mr. Zweig is a welcome relief from this all too serious cult. Of course the point is that the natural aristocrat, even in his emotions, is never

A different kind of vigilance must be urged before we allow our readers to cross the threshold of the Macedonian harem in the highly respectable company of Mr. Theodor Berkes and his anonymous girlfriend. The institution of polygamy, as developed by the Turks, is fast dying out, and within a few years should be as obsolete as a tandem bicycle. There are, however, a couple of seraglios left which means that there are still perhaps as many as one hundred women now living who are submissive, gentle, charming, and dumb. It is the prophecy of this department that our male readers will find their smoked glasses clouded with tears when they read this eloquent description of moribund customs, but that if their womenfolk beat them to it the offending pages will be ripped from the magazine and trampled under a pair of those ample, sensible sport-shoes which are so rapidly taking the place of the antiquated French heel.