The Second Generation. By James Weber Linn. (Macmillan and Co.
6s.)—In spite of the success of many American romances, we are not sure whether the real specialite of the American author is not the "novel of business." Of course, there are English novels of the same character, "George Geith " by Mrs. Riddell being the first specimen, but somehow they have not the vitality of the modern American example, they do not palpitate with the atmosphere of Wall Street, and the reader's ear is not anxiously glued to a fictional telephone. The Second Generation is an excellent example of a novel in which politics and business are inextricably blended, and it gives the British reader an insight into a certain side of American ways of living which he, with his insular horizon, has hardly suspected of existence. The American Constitu- tion seems in some ways to make things so easy for the " concessionist " that it requires in the "boss" a very strong morale to resist using the tool so temptingly laid to his
hand. In England things are not quite so dangerously easy, and the business politician hardly exists. Let us be thankful to be spared temptation, like the legendary Minister in a Colony in a past generation who resigned after refusing an enormous bribe because the bribers were getting too near his "figure." Wheeler, the villain of the present book, far from flying temptation, makes the very most of his opportunities. In the first instance of his crooked dealings, he actually does good instead of harm to his native city ; but as he acts from impure motives, his moral degradation is as much hastened as though the deed itself were evil. His friend, the editor of the local journal, dies of the shock of finding him out, combined with a blow dealt him by Wheeler when accused of dishonest dealing. This is the prologue to the story. The story itself has for hero the editor's son, Jerome Kent, to whom the taking of revenge on Wheeler is left as a legacy by his dead father. But "the stare in their courses fight" against poor Jerome. The means by which he hopes to attain Wheeler's undoing turn to his own ruin, and worse than all, ignoring her name, he loves Wheeler's daughter. The book is sad with the commonplace sadness of real life rather than the forced melancholy of fiction. But it is extremely interesting, the characters live before our eyes, and in all the unhappy ending there is a gleam of possible future brightness for Jerome Kent, which tends to console the " gentle reader" for past sufferings. It must be acknowledged that Mr. Linn possesses no mean powers if he can interest the reader in the fate of Jerome after that gentleman has been safely shut up between the two covers of his bookish habitation.