A SPECTATOR'S NOTEBOOK

T N one of the three fresh chapters included in the new edition I of Dr. William Brown's War and the Psychological Conditions of Peace (Black, 7s. 6d.) there occurs a highly interesting account of two conversations between the author (who is, of course, the well- known Oxford psychologist) and Mr. Neville Chamberlain on the subject of Hitler's psychology after the meetings between the British Prime Minister and the Nazi dictator at Munich and Godesberg. Dr. Brown suggested that Hitler was both hysterical and paranoid. When the former term had been defined, Mr. Chamberlain strongly confirmed the diagnosis. " When Hitler is talking," he said, " it is just as if he has blinkers on. He is concentrated on one thing, completely, earnestly, and genuinely, and a little later on he is talking about something else, and again he is quite earnest and genuine, but what he says now is in complete contradiction to what he said before." That was one conversation between Dr. Brown and the Prime Minister. There was another a iittle later (early in July, 1939), when Dr. Brown was asked as a psychologist whether he thought Hitler would make an alliance with Russia. He replied that there might be a non-aggression pact or an economic agreement, but that he would not make a military alliance ; his very nature would be out- raged by it ; it would be against everything in Mein Kampf, especially the penultimate chapter. Events proved that judgement to be accurate, but it is a little surprising that Dr. Brown should attach so much importance to a chapter in Mein Kampf. Not " what I have written I have written," but "what I have written I can unwrite " would seem to be the guiding principle of the author of that extensively circulated work.

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Sir Max Beerbohm, says an article on that notable Victorian in the current issue of a monthly review, " is now incredibly nearing his seventh decade." That gives him a decade too few. He is on the verge of his eighth, for he completes his seventh next Monday. Max, I believe, deprecates a concentration of attention on the fact, holding the view that more important things are by way of happening about the world just now. He has declined to signalise the event by broadcasting or by any other public mani- festation—though I understand he will be heard again on the air at a date sufficiently far distant from August 24th to dispel the idea of any connection between the two. The Maximilians, an ad hoc body called into being for the purpose, are, I believe, to celebrate the auspicious day with some kind of Medmenham revels, but that is no concern of mine or yours. In one sense, of course, it is fantastic to call Max a Victorian, for he was still under thirty when the Good Queen was succeeded by her rather ambiguous son. But the calendar does not determine all things, and no one could call Max either Edwardian or Georgian. A Victorian he is, and a Victorian may he long continue in the secluded and delightful corner of England where he has chosen to live the unobtrusive life he prefers. We may be grateful to Mussolini for compelling him to be-a little less inaccessible to his English friends than he was at Rapallo.

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Such indications as become available from time to time about the general trend of reading in war-time are interesting and on the whole encouraging. The report of the Leeds City Libraries for the year ending March 31st, 1942, reflects the tastes of the inhabitants of a large industrial centre. The fact that the total number of issues of books showed an increase of some 6.6 per cent, over 194o-41 is less important than the increases in the different classes of literature. The largest absolute increase is in fiction (under

which head standard writers like Dickens, Thackeray, Trollo Jane Austen and the Brontes are prominent, but actually it amoun

to only 3.6 per cent., whereas the percentage of increase in th History and Travel section is 22.2 per cent., volumes like Shirer Berlin Diary, Virginia Cowles' Looking for Trouble and Werth Moscow, '41, being in particular demand. The Religion class is is by 124 per cent., and a nse of 19.5 per cent. in the Philology class points to a growing interest in the study of foreign languages

These are minor but welcome signs of the tendency of the public mind to concern itself with things that matter.

* * * * I cannot quite decide whether to regard Mr. Ashley Courtenay as a benefactor or an insidious demoraliser of the public. Mr. Courtenay spends his life, or a good deal of it, going about the country sampling hotels and telling readers of his little books the result. So far that is benefaction pure and simple. Most of us still take a little bit of holiday ; most of us deliberate where to spend

it ; and Mr. Courtenay, in the new war-time edition. of his Let's Halt Awhile (published by the author, 68, St. James Street, S.W.; 5s.), gives precisely the kind of particulars needed about some 325 hotels, many of them little known, from Buttermere to Cape Cornwall. So far so good. But what about the Government's shattering interrogation, " Is Your Journey Necessary? " Mr.

Courtenay all but convinces you that it is. At any rate, he makes the impulse to take transport forthwith to the " White Horse " here,

or the " Swan " or the " Lion " there, irresistible. And yet does he? After all, not quite. On balance, I see Mr. Courtenay as a

subtle ally of authority. For you can pick up his fascinating little

book casually (as I did), turn page after page to the full tale of its 220 or so (as I did) and mount the stairs to bed an hour or two later feeling that you have enjoyed all the sensations of an ideal holiday without moving from your fireless fireside. So have it either way. Read Let's Halt Awhile and choose your holiday, or read Let's Halt Awhile and do without one. But if my advice counts for anything, read it.

* * * * Three weeks ago I gave particulars of a case of a Devonshire farmer whose rating assessment was being increased on the ground that his house was not being used as a purely agricultural residence because his wife took in evacuees—at the request of the local billeting-officer. The facts were correctly stated, but it appears that there was a misunderstanding on the committee's part, and that the increase will not be exacted. Certainly no attempt is being made to establish a principle that would plainly be indefensible.

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Something was said elsewhere in last week's Spectator about the danger of excessive hours and overstrain. I have been given particulars of a man (one no doubt of many) who is working regularly 67 hours a week (part of that is overtime, which is virtually compulsory) at a heavy job.; he is now being called on to fire-watch as well. This, I fancy, is ultra vires. Normally, a 6o-hour

week exempts from fire-watching. What we need is the optimum, not the maximum, application of physical capacity. * * * *

My reference to prayers for " seasonable " weather brings a re- minder of a bygone sketch in Punch (by Charles Keane?) de- picting a disgruntled farmer's complaint that " as soon as parson 'aye got in 'is own hay 'e do dap on the prayer for rain." Needs can be siery local.

Paws-