* * * * *

In spite of these rather obvious omissions, Mr. Dillon’s Book is both valuable and readable.  Especially in those events which occurred early in the country’s history is there material for comparison with the happenings of the present day, events which will some day be incorporated in a similar book compiled by some energetic successor of Mr. Dillon.

For instance, under Oct. 27, 1659, we find that William Robinson and Marmaduke Stevenson were banished from New Hampshire on the charge of being Quakers and were later executed for returning to the colony.  Imagine!

And on Dec. 8, 1837, Wendell Phillips delivered his first abolition speech at Boston in Faneuil Hall, as a result of which he got himself known around Boston as an undesirable citizen, a dangerous radical and a revolutionary trouble-maker.  It hardly seems possible now, does it?

And on July 4, 1776—­but there, why rub it in?

XLVIII

A WEEK-END WITH WELLS

In the February Bookman there is an informal article by John Elliot called “At Home with H.G.  Wells” in which we are let in on the ground floor in the Wells household and shown “H.G.” (as his friends and his wife call him) at play.  It is an interesting glimpse at the small doings of a great man, but there is one feature of those doings which has an ominous sound.

“The Wells that everyone loves who sees him at Easton is the human Wells, the family Wells, the jovial Wells, Wells the host of some Sunday afternoon party.  For a distance of ten or twenty miles round folks come on Sunday to play hockey and have tea.  Old and young—­people from down London who never played hockey before in their lives; country farmers and their daughters, and everybody else who lives in the district—­troop over and bring whoever happens to be the week-end guest.  Wells is delightful to them all.  He doesn’t give a rap if they are solid Tories, Bolsheviks, Liberals, or men and women of no political leanings, Can you play hockey? is all that matters.  If you say No you are rushed toward a pile of sticks and given one and told to go in the forward line; if you say Yes you are probably made a vice captain on the spot.”

* * * * *

I am frank to confess that this sounds perfectly terrible to me.  I can’t imagine a worse place in which to spend a week-end than one where your host is always boisterously forcing you to take part in games and dances about which you know nothing.  A week-end guest ought to be ignored, allowed to rummage about alone among the books, live stock and cold food in the ice-box whenever he feels like it, and not rushed willy-nilly (something good could be done using the famous Willy-Nilly correspondence as a base, but not here), into whatever the family itself may consider a good time.