Quite a host of moral reflections, none of them very original, flock to one’s mind in considering by what devious ways our Italian allies came to range themselves on the side of that freedom which they have always loved as well and bravely as any of the rest of us.  For instance—­a very stale reflection—­one sees Germany overdoing her own cleverness and under-rating that of her neighbours—­this more especially in her arrogant dominance of Italy’s commerce; further, one notices the Hun’s Belgian brutalities costing him dear in a quarter least expected; and again one realises Italy’s decision as a thing mainly dependent, in spite of all Germany’s taking little ways, on a righteous hatred of Austria—­a consideration which brings one surprisingly near to gratitude towards the big-bully Government of Vienna.  Our southern ally’s loyalty to her beautiful “unredeemed” provinces, and her claim, which all right-minded Englishmen (I include myself) most heartily endorse, to dominate the historically Italian waters of the Adriatic, happily proved too strong for a machine-made sympathy for Berlin based on nothing better than a superficial resemblance between the histories of Piedmont and Prussia, and a record of nominal alliance with powers whose respect for paper treaties was always fairly apparent.  All the same, in reading Mr. W. KAY WALLACE’S essay in recent history, Greater Italy (CONSTABLE), a volume which I cannot too strongly commend for its admirable way of telling these and similar things, I am struck most of all by the super-incumbent mass of Germanism that had to be burst asunder before the true Italy broke free.  The story of that liberation is romance of an amazing order, for in it one sees the very soul of a great and ancient people struggling to renewal of life.  It is more than good to have such an ally, it is an inspiration.

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[Illustration:  Allotment Tripper. “THIS HERE NORTH SEA DON’T HALF WANT WEEDING.”]

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If you wish to complete your knowledge of the working of our new armies and learn something of the business of the A.S.C. you can do so without being bored in L. of C. (CONSTABLE), by Captain JAMES AGATE.  The author is one of that bright band of Mancunians which The Manchester Guardian has attached to its august fringes.  He writes of the business in hand, the vagaries of stores and indents and mere men and brass hats, on this and the other side of the Channel, all with a very light and engaging pen, and then spreads himself on any old far-off thing that interests him, such as the theatre, perhaps a little self-consciously and with a pleasant air of swagger most forgivable and, indeed, enjoyable.  His chief preoccupation is with art and letters, it is clear; but, turning from them to the handling of urgent things and difficult men, he faces the business manfully.  Of the men in particular he has illuminating things to say, redounding to their credit and, by implication, to his.  To those who appreciate form in penwork this book may be safely recommended.