the French troops. Lépine* takes a very grave view of its influence.

'The sum total (he writes) of my experiences, spread over a period of three years, and referring to some six thousand patients, reveals alcohol as the sole and primary cause of at least a third of the cases. Taking into account those in whom it is only of slight importance, it would appear that half, sometimes close on two-thirds, of our patients have been influenced by alcohol.'

The commonest of all mental disorders has been a confusional state in which the patient becomes dazed, disorientated (unable to locate himself, to appreciate correctly the passage of time, or to realise his identity), and exhibits a more or less pronounced degree of cerebral torpor. In many instances the dazed condition was transient; in others, however, it persisted for days or even months, and was so severe as to amount to stupor, or there was much restlessness and incoherence of speech. Many cases were extremely resistive and refused to take food or allow anything to be done for them, so that it was often necessary to resort to tube-feeding. In some of these there appeared to be permanent cerebral deterioration; in other cases apparent recovery has yet concealed a permanent weakness which shows itself in lefective self-control. This may, indeed, help to some degree to explain the violent conduct of certain men who, though apparently normal, have yet a history of precedent confusional disorder or of shell-shock.†

This confusional state was not infrequently an early tage of premature dementia (dementia praecox) or it nasked another progressive disorder, general paralysis of the insane. In shell-shock also the element of conusion was occasionally very noticeable. Numbers of nen who were found wandering from their companies nd who were tried and even convicted for desertion vere found to be suffering in this way. Where expert opinion could substantiate this fact, the men were, of

'Mental Disorders of War,' by Jean Lépine (English translation, ondon, 1919, p. xx).

For a more detailed discussion of this and of other mental disorders f the war see Lépine in the work by him already cited: and also 'Stress [ Campaign,' by Hubert J. Norman ; 'Review of Neurology and Psychiatry,' ug.-Sept. 1917.

course, referred for further treatment; but there can be little doubt that some of them suffered penalties for acts for which they were not fully responsible.

All the ordinary types of mental disorder met with in civil practice were represented among the soldier patients. Attacks of mania or of melancholia, either in association with wounds or without any apparent injury, and of the most varying degrees of intensity, were numerous. General paralysis of the insane appeared in some instances to have been aggravated by stress or injury. The syphilitic virus must of course have been present already; but, when the body was rapidly denuded of its resisting power, an opportunity was given to the organisms to thrive more rapily. Opinions differ as to influence of war conditions in bringing about epilepsy. Certainly in some cases, where there had been injuries to the head, there were epileptic seizures, but these were of the traumatic (or Jacksonian) type. Even these were not so frequent as might have been expected. Allowing for these cases, Lépine thinks that there does not seem to be any doubt that the war has produced an increase in epilepsy'; but he goes on to say that it is more especially the number of fits which have increased, rather than the number of affected cases.'

Mental defectives have been a great source of trouble and anxiety to every one concerned. How some of the misfits could have been passed into the Army passes the comprehension of any one who has any experience in psychiatry. Many of them certainly were well-propor tioned and strong, but their mental defectiveness was obvious. Some of them had been under care for years and had been removed therefrom by relatives who did not lack prevision in so far as separation allowances and pensions were concerned. Obvious imbeciles could, indeed, be weeded out without much difficulty; it was those with defective moral sense who were the most pernicious and troublesome. Opinions may differ as to the existence of instinctive criminals, but there can be no doubt that individuals of this type come very near to being placed in this category. Some of them were more than potential criminals; they had served their apprenticeship to crime before enlisting and had made acquaintance with the interiors of numerous prisons.

that worldliness upholds whether in education, marriage, or general society. She plainly declares her belief that moral conduct must spring from a deeper source and must cherish a higher aim than this. She had seen, and would describe, how little dependence can be placed upon well-bred decorum and outward propriety unless they are inspired by religious principles. The veil of habitual reticence employed by her on these subjects is here drawn further back, and the language used is more explicit, than in any of her other books. Sir Thomas Bertram's self-reproach is addressed to this very point. He came to feel, we are told, that

Something must have been wanting within. He feared that principle, active principle, had been wanting; that his daughters had never been taught to govern their inclinations and tempers properly, by that sense of duty which can alone suffice. They had been instructed theoretically in their religion, but never required to bring it into daily practice. To be distinguished for elegance and accomplishments, the authorised object of their youth, could have had no useful influence that way, no moral effect on the mind Of the necessity of self-denial and humility, he feared they had never heard from any lips that could profit them.'

Again, the term 'Sin' is given to express flagrant evil. Edmund employs it in his last interview with Mary Crawford; and of her brother we are told that, though too little accustomed to serious reflection to know good principles by their proper name, yet in his highest praises of Fanny he expressed what was inspired by the knowledge of her being well-principled and religious.'

We learn here more of Jane Austen's deep feelings on moral and religious questions than she has expressed lsewhere, but every allusion to them in her other works 3 in complete harmony with the teachings set forth in the latter chapters of 'Mansfield Park.' When, therefore, ve find in the sister volumes the not infrequent words principles' and 'duty,' we should remember how much hey imply, and that we have, as already stated, evidence roving her general reticence on the highest subjects to e intentional, and not accidental. 'Still waters run eep'; and the uniform though restrained teaching in Vol. 232.--No. 461.

Y

these books assures us of the steadfastness of conviction respecting these important points on the part of her to whom we owe their existence. The virtues she loves to cultivate in her characters she would certainly desire for herself; the 'self-knowledge' she prizes so highly, as a means of improvement, she would personally desire for the same reason; nor was there in her that want of humility which prevents some souls from acquiring it. All her life she looked up to Cassandra as her superior in wisdom and goodness; and to its very close she esteemed others as better than herself.

That she had reflected silently on solemn questions some expressions in her letters show us; and one of her nieces has written, 'When Aunt Jane was grave she was very grave, graver I think even than Aunt Cassandra." Such thoughts on her part, and such an attitude of mind, will not appear improbable when we recall her ancestry and education. Her father, on one side, her grandfather on the other, had been excellent and active parish priests. By precept and by example she had received both from her stricter mother and her gentler father the firm religious principles which governed her throughout life. Mrs George Austen writes, on returning from a visit to London, that in it 'every one seems in a hurry,' adding, ''Tis a sad place; I would not live in it on any account; one has not time to do one's duty either to God or Man' -a verdict that may provoke a smile, but which serves to show the speaker's conviction as regards the great object of human life. George Austen's instructions to his sons express, as might be expected, the same belief. In a long letter, written to Francis, the elder of his two sailor sons, 'attention to religious duties is given the primary place. Round these twin poles, therefore-'Duty to God and duty to Man'-had Jane Austen been taught that life should revolve; and this it is that she always presupposes would be accepted in a like manner by the heroes and heroines in all her books. Not that she therefore considers them to be already perfect.'

'Pictures of perfection,' she owns, 'make me sick and wicked.' She knew human nature too well for it to be possible that she should accept such pictures as faithful portraits, but it is towards moral perfection that she makes her own favourite creations aspire.

To some, perhaps to many, it may appear hardly lecessary to insist upon all this. 'We have long known,' hey would say, 'the moral tendency of her books, and ave believed in the firmly religious convictions of the nind that produced them. Why then spend so much ime in painting the lily?' Two answers may be given o this question, the first and obvious one being that vhat is evident to certain minds is not therefore so to II. But there is a second reason, and a weighty one. Jane Austen has now more than one public; her novels re read, appreciated and reviewed in other countries esides our own. In France they have recently been gain brought forward, in a work of great ability,* by writer who describes her as une romancière que Angleterre compte parmi ses plus parfaits artistes de ettres et que l'originalité aussi bien que le mérite de son euvre font qualifier d'incomparable.'

The knowledge and enthusiasm displayed by Mlle. 'illard could hardly be surpassed, while the insight and alent with which her book is filled can scarcely be overraised. As a piece of literary criticism it is so valuable nd exhaustive that it will probably, for some time to ome, be accepted in France as a standard work on Jane Kusten and her novels. Already it may have served to ncrease the number of their readers in that country; nd this number is likely to become larger, for at the resent time, when a strong desire is felt that the bonds etween ourselves and our nearest ally should be drawn oser, those formed by a mutual study of each others' terature can hardly be neglected. It is at the same me highly desirable that correct ideas concerning the riter of any English Classic should be offered to the rench public, but, strange to say, this is so far from eing the case in Mlle. Villard's book that those most early concerned in seeing that justice is done to the ersonal character of Jane Austen, and who are best ble to speak of it from authentic and unimpeachable stimony, could hardly be excused if they failed to rotest against the estimate regarding it put forth in La Vie,' as being wholly unworthy of her, and entirely

Jane Austen: sa vie et son œuvre.' Par Léonie Villard, Agrégée de Jniversité, Docteur és lettres. Lyons and Paris, 1915.