The Sentimental Warrior. By Edgar Jepson. (Grant Richards. 6s.)—We will
frankly say that we were not sorry to get to the end of this novel, not because it is dull and ill-written, for it certainly is not, but because the atmosphere seemed to us unwholesome. It is not easy to classify the story. On the whole, we are inclined to describe it as a romance masquerading under a show of realism. Does the author by the very curious title which he has chosen mean to indicate something of the kind ? Julian seems at first a very real person, but by degrees we cease to believe in him. The story of his relations to his father, himself an almost un- gmitiated caricature, is at times nearly farcical. In Stella, the titled lady who seeks for adventures in the East End, we never could believe at all. And yet there are various touches which have a look of truth ; in the story of Julian's boyhood they are especially frequent. It is when he grows up that he seems to us to become improbable. Odious he certainly is, and we are glad to get rid of him. We do not know what Mr. Jepson really thinks of the world ; for our part, we do not believe that wo could see so much as is shown us in this novel and see nothing that is noble.
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