The World and a Han. By Z. Z. (W. Heinemann.)—The
literature, or so-called literature, which "Z. Z." affects is of this kind. He takes for his subject some casual person and describes. what he thinks and does. There is nothing interesting in it except indeed that it is possible, even probable. Many men may have led the kind of life which is here narrated in the life of Luke Merritt,—have began with ideals and ended in the material. We must say that we want something more. We are no more inclined to call this literature than we should be inclined to call it art if some one should take his Kodak into any common- place street and take a view of its trivialities. Everything ivoukl be tame, and uninteresting. If fiction is to be of this type, we never want to see another noveL Scott and Dickens and Thackeray, George Eliot and Kingsley, are still left, and we can do without "Z. Z." and his fellows.
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