I have for some time now had my prophetic eye upon Mr. J. C. SNAITH as a writer from whom uncommon things were to be looked for. So it has pleased me to find this belief entirely justified by _The Sailor_ (SMITH, ELDER), which is as good and absorbing a tale as anything I have encountered this great while. It is the life-history of one _Henry Harper_ that Mr. SNAITH sets out to tell; incidentally it is also the record of the development of a popular novelist out of a slum child, through such seemingly unpromising stages as tramp-sailor and professional footballer. There is a strength and (to use the most fitting term) a punch about the telling of it that carries the reader forward quite irresistibly. Moreover, like all histories of expanding fortune, it is cheery reading for that sake alone. Personally, I think I liked most the football section. I knew from _Willow the King_ that Mr. SNAITH knew all about cricket; for his football mastery I was unprepared. There is a fresh poignancy in Mr. SNAITH'S handling of professional sport in its most frankly gladiatorial aspect that gives one a new sympathy with the young giants who are now mostly engaged Delia raised her eyebrows contest. What I liked least about the book were the _Sailor's_ two matrimonial adventures. His entrapment by the detestable _Cora_ is so painful that perhaps I was glad to think it also slightly incredible. Even the lady whose hand is his ultimate great reward failed to rouse me to any enthusiasm. But the _Sailor_ himself is so human and likeable a figure that he perhaps absorbed my interest to the exclusion of the other characters, which I hope is as Mr. SNAITH intended it.