Autobiography. By Margiad Evans. (Blackwell. 8s. 6d.)
THIS book differs from most autobiographies in describing obj rather than people and in the serene quality of its happiness. " Such sober certainty of waking bliss
I never heard 'till now "
might be the motto. It consists of several country journals, the most successful of which, written in winter, with its minute and hoarded observation of nature, reminds one of the greatet Dorothy Wordsworth and Gerald Manley Hopkins. "The windows look as if they have been dipped in black oil—frost is tight about us," and, after snow, " the trees appear to put on flesh ; their silence war softer than in frost-time with none of that tense endurance of pain.' As the dust-cover points out, the book contains hardly a fact about life in the world of men and women, but in spite of this, the record of experience never grows monotonous. It may well influence a
few readers to try the discipline of country solitude; will be. led to read The Wooden Doctor and Miss Evans's ther books.
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