action were the result of some fault inherent in the previous object, and not merely the sequel, inevitable sooner or later, of the action itself. An object is desirable, because the will has endowed t, imaginatively, with value; subsequently the desire is atisfied or frustrated; either we possess the object which we desired, or it has escaped us. If we possess t, its value may or may not be diminished; but the lesire for it has ceased to be active; or the peaceful njoyment of it may alternate with a new disturbance f desire at the threat of loss. If we fail to secure the bject desired, the value may be enhanced, or the desire liverted to some other object, with or without some loss f value in the previous object of desire. In all these ases the value is in proportion to the amount of energy xpended in the act of attaining the object desired. Prior to its attainment we attach value to the object self; subsequently we attach it to the action by which he object was attained; there may be anterior to both, pleasure and therefore value in the desire itself, before is sufficiently strong to be precipitated into action. ut the value of anything is most sharply and clearly xpressed in our effort to attain it, and at the highest ension of that effort. The will, the desire, may be xhausted in action, but the value remains once it has een completely realised. To the mystic it is the revelaon of grace,' to the artist it is the revelation of beauty. . It will be seen then that there is a subjective technique the artist, just as there is a subjective μíunois in the ectator. The artist has consciously or unconsciously ailt up a scheme of 'value' for himself in his subjective iticism of his own experience; from the point of view us gained he analyses the objective synthesis presented him in the person of his sitter, and having dissolved he replaces it by his own synthesis, injecting into it 8 own value, his own 'truth,' apart from which she is thing but a more or less irrelevant fact; and this ansference of value from the mind of the artist to his ork is what we mean by style, no merely superficial ality, but the very being or essence of all great art. Technique is a term better applied to the handling the material including the subjective consciousness, ! of the artist, than to the handling of the medium. The nly To follow the question any further on these line t would probably lead to a discussion of the moral conset quences of the values which art creates, and the rationa form which the artist has given to his assimilate experience. He has imposed on us his emotion and hi own value by making them objective: an illusion, if your will, has become for us a reality; but if that realit exists for us, as the effect of his will, his consciousnesar has intervened in this mechanical universe of cause an effect, and he has created, freely, something which doe not exist of nature and necessity, and which has for u the strength of actual experience. FREDERIC MANNING. can aly ed he Lost Dominion. By Al. Carthill. sion. Blackwood, 1924. Second Impres DIA is quieter than she has been for some time. The egislative Councils are in recess; the after-unrest the War has subsided; the peculiar conditions hich favoured Mr Gandhi's campaigns have largely isappeared; crops have been magnificent; food prices ave fallen considerably. Altogether the people are appier; and the work of the Services which, pace the olitician, most certainly are the framework of the hole fabric of government, is easier and pleasanter. ut there are ominous indications that all is not well; le elaborate system of constitutional reform, which was unched only three and a half years ago, is loudly nounced by those to whom it offers the widest oppornities of national service; the sowers of racial hatred e still busy; and although the British and Indian embers of the Lee Commission tell us that India still eds the services of capable and broad-minded Englishen and will long continue to need them,' the supply British candidates is drying up. If it ceases in our y the Indian Army will certainly go the way of the vil Services; India will no longer receive the assistance British troops, and will, indeed, become a lost dominion, it not only to Englishmen but also to patriotic Indians, not only is British control the one central power ich can hold together the varied races of India, but British Army is the one force which can unite them defence against invasion from the fanatical and eagerly iting Muslim tribes of the North-West Frontier, able, combined, to raise some 150,000 well-armed fighters, 1 certain, should the favourable hour come, to be ned by Afghans, Turks, and, in all probability, the ces of Soviet Russia. 'Al. Carthill' (the Executioner) is not a very accurate impartial historian; but with his vivid and picturesque le he compels attention to a subject of vital importe to India and to all British subjects. If, moreover, ne of his passages are exaggerated in their pessimism drearily cynical, others are plangent in their just reproach. Take, for instance, this presentment of the racial and communal riots of recent years and their causes. Did प 'I have seen riots put down with severity, but, I never knew one riot which could not have been prevented had proper precautions been taken in time. To him who is fond of the Indian peoples it is a matter of indignation. You see the artful agitator at work. No one interferes. You seee) some seditious doctrines preached publicly. That is a point of view which the subject may properly hold and express You see the first beginnings of disorder. These are mere temporary ebullitions; let the angry passions of the people Te find that vent. Next day you are struggling with the whole mobilisation of anarchy. One mob is looting in the bazaar another is killing swine in the mosques, a third cows in the temples. Flames are going up from all the public buildings Isolated Europeans are flying for their lives; stragglers are being clubbed to death. Women are being left for dead por Loyal officials are being plundered of all they have and are decla being put to death with tortures. Then the troops are marched into the city.' الا مزق nots the nt e to apte & p are or The F CU or The fundamental basis of our author's pessimism i the antagonism between Eastern and Western civilisa tion,' a phrase too common in these days. There is indeed, an antagonism which gives occasion for philo sophic meditation and the drawing of vivid contrasts But need it inspire despair? How has the meeting between East and West really worked out in India Some of its fruits, indeed, have been to the palate bitta and to the stomach cold; but thoughts of others ma well lie as a glowing coal at our hearts. Has not th debt of India to England and to Western civilisatio been again and again acknowledged by leading Indian in words of unmistakable sincerity? Has not thei gratitude found expression in deeds? Is it not a well known fact that Indians have always preferred English men to try cases in which they were interested? Is i not true that when Mr Montagu and Lord Chelmsfor visited Bombay on their reforming tour they were pr sented with an address by the depressed classes statin that all hopes of the upliftment of the latter were 'in extricably bound up with the perfect maintenance British authority'; that the British rulers were the true friends'; their own countrymen were 'the declared nemies of their interests, moral and material, social and piritual'? Did not the investigations of the Lee Comnission, more recently, indicate the same mind abiding a these many millions? Was not a memorial presented o Lord Reading, in October 1921, from all grades of a Population which had been suffering from the bloody utrages of the Moplah rebellion, urging, among other hings, that prompt and effective measures' should be aken to stop speeches and writings circulated directly r indirectly to create violence or hatred against the British Government'? Was not, in 1922, a petition ddressed to the Punjab Government by Muhammadans nd Hindus in Multan begging that a British magistrate hould be appointed to try the cases arising out of recent ommunal riots? Did not a prominent Hindu, who had trongly supported Mr Gandhi in 1919, fresh from a visit the scene of the 1923 riot at Saharanpur in the United rovinces, declare that the Muhammadan district officer hould be replaced by a 'strong and just Englishman'? What is the real history of the recent attempt to ndianise the Indian army, and why is it that, despite he constant efforts of the Swarajists to pervert that oble force to their purposes, its members have refused be corrupted? Is not the reason simply the daily ersonal influence of the British military officer who is himself a palpable refutation of a propaganda fed by es? I have mentioned only a few of many facts which nd little or no place in official utterances in this untry. Those acquainted with them will be slow to ecept any current phrase as an excuse for lymphatic efeatism or base desertion of old friends. And, to take further survey, is not the number of Indians who visit ad are educated in this country yearly increasing? Do ley come because they or their fathers are repelled by Testern civilisation ? We must. however, return to 'Al. Carthill.' We need ot follow his summary of the events which established India the only government which could give it unity, te Government which served as an abiding-place and a vert from the tempest to hundreds of millions of the iman race. He describes the Mutiny in one passage a military revolt and in another as the answer of |