Solid meat . . .

The meatiest material in the magazine is a correspondence conducted between W. H. Oliver and W. Hart Smith. Both these correspondents have something to say—and they say it without excessive verbi age and intellectual Jargon. The result is stimulating, almost provocative, and makes good reading. A short story by Helen Shaw "After the Dark" deserves better company than most of the other articles in the journal.

Eight poems by any poet, printed in succession are always a little indigestible, even when the poetry is excellent. Charles Spear's poetry, I feel, needs to be taken in small doses. The last verse of "Promised Land" accurately predicts the effect of these eight poems on the reader:

"For you shall walk the sheer gulfs brink,
Through glass-blue caves all brittle spars
And flaws. Thereafter you shall sink,
Snow-blind in slush, beneath the stars."