In “Enoch Soames”--which is the masterpiece of the book--Mr. Beerbohm fools, but he fools wisely. He never takes his eye off human nature. He draws not only a caricature, but a man. The minor poet--the utterly incompetent minor poet--has never before been drawn so brilliantly and with so much intelligence as in “Enoch Soames.” The pretentiousness, the inclination to disparage, the egotism, the affected habits and beliefs--bad poets (and some less bad ones) have had them in all ages, but the type has not before been collected and pinned in a glass case. “Enoch Soames” is a perfect fable for egotists. It might be described as a sympathetic exposure. One feels almost sorry for Soames as Mr. Beerbohm subjects him to the terrible justice of the comic imagination. “Enoch Soames” is a moral tale into which the Devil himself enters as a character. Mr. Beerbohm made his reputation as an eccentric writer. In this story he suggests an attitude the reverse of eccentric. Perhaps it is that middle-age has descended on him. He has certainly added wisdom to playfulness, and in the result has painted an imaginary portrait which is as impressively serious as it is brilliantly entertaining. 2. “MAX” IN DANGER Mr. Beerbohm is in danger of being canonised. Critics may quarrel about him, but it is only because the wreaths get in the way of one another, and every critic thinks that his should be on top. They have even discovered that “Max” has a heart. “Max” may plead that it is only a little one, but that will not save him. Some other critic will discover that he has a message, and someone else will announce that he has a metaphysic. In order to avert this unseemly canonisation--or, at least, to keep it within the bounds of reason--one would like to adopt the ungracious part of _advocatus diaboli_ and state the case against “Max” in the strongest possible terms. But, alas! one finds that there is nothing to say against him, except that he is not Shakespeare or Dr. Johnson.