His Children's Children

by Arthur Train. New York: Charles Scribner’s Sons. 1923. 12mo. vi + 391 pp. $2.00.
THE younger generation is the subject of much discussion to-day, press and pulpit uniting, not always in condemnation, but in an endeavor to ascertain the causes of current phenomena. In His Children’s Children, Mr. Train shows that the field of inquiry must be far broader than a limited age-group if an understanding and solution are to be reached. As the reader follows the ultrarespectable but selfish Rufus Kayne through his financial crisis and his sudden loss of moral stamina, or watches his clever but reckless daughter Diana in her freedom-seeking life, or notes the rapid steps by which the youngest daughter, Sheila, a typical flapper, dances her unconcerned way through the activities of her set, it becomes increasingly evident that the blame for the circumstances in which these persons find themselves does not rest entirely on the individual, but on the lack of sympathy and coöperation between the members of the family, due to the accepted conditions of modern life. The story holds the attention, gives food for thought, and help in solving the grave problems which our day must face.
The theme of the book lies in the fact that the stabilizing truths of religion cannot successfully be replaced by modern ideas which regard ‘civilization as only a cloak, a gossamer one at that,’ and ‘religion as a clever invention to keep miserable people contented,’ and ‘marriage as a ghastly joke resulting in jealousy, hatred, or insufferable boredom.’ The reader is shown that side of modern life wherein ‘young people go into society without having the slightest idea that there is such a thing as a world of retribution and punishment,’ wherein many frankly have no faith in the creed which they profess, a generation that does not realize that ‘a man’s reach should exceed his grasp. ‘ but which is content with ideals summed up in a good time and a false conception of liberty which must Lead to disaster.
The volume is not a religious book in the general use of that phrase, but there is in it an increasing proof of the need of a religion —something to take the place of what has been discarded. This is brought out in the finely drawn characters. Strong and self-sufficient in many ways, yet lacking the support which religion alone can give, they are helpless and in jeopardy.
There is a discursiveness in the plot which makes one wish that some of the loose ends of the story had been more fully woven into the web of the picture. There seems to be not only an opportunity but even the necessity of a sequel. As one comes, at the end of the book, to know better the fine character of the aged Peter, Rufus’s father, one regrets that he did not come into the action more fully but was reserved for the really fine climax with which the story ends.
LAURENCE F. PIPER.