Yesterday's To - morrow. By Dora Greenwell McChesney. (J. M. Dent and
Co. 48. 6d. net.)—Miss McChesney's historical romances are always picturesquely written, but this one has not quite so interesting a setting as is usual with her books. Much, however, may be forgiven to an author who cheers her readers by giving at full length unexpected quotations from Shirley's songs. To come across the quatrain- " The glories of our blood and state Are shadows, not substantial things. There is no armour against fate,
Death lays his icy hands on kings "—
in a modern novel is like suddenly meeting an old friend, rarely seen, in a company of intelligent strangers. After saying this, it seems ungrateful to complain that in places the story drags more than a little, but such unfortunately must be acknowledged to be the fact.