Here is another of those fascinating excursions, by way of fiction, into the regions of men at work, under the conditions of life—"The Citadel." As fiction it has excellent living stuff in whole blocks of pages; and there are blocks where the events necessary to the main design are too abrupt and pat for their necessary effect. But I shouldn't care to judge this novel under the ordinary fictional rules until the term fiction has been widened to include credits for large experience, a balanced judgment thereon and story-teller's knack for recreation thereof; and narrowed to rule out all this review-supplement bosh of credit for Industry and Effort, especially of credit for Correct Conduct along the line of this or that ideology, take your pick. Cronin's novel has above everything else the quality of absorbing instruction, the illusion of seeing through a clear glass certain workings of...