第2章

Thushehasbecomeakindofclassicinhisownday，foranundisputedreputationmakesaclassicwhileitlasts.Butwaseversomuchfamewonbywritingswhichmightbecalledscrappyanddesultorybytheadvocatusdiaboli？ItisamostmiscellaneousliterarybaggagethatMr.Stevensoncarries.First，afewmagazinearticles;thentwolittlebooksofsentimentaljourneyings，whichconvincethereaderthatMr.Stevensonisasgoodcompanytohimselfashisbooksaretoothers.Thencameavolumeortwoofessays，literaryandsocial，onbooksandlife.BythistimetherecouldbenodoubtthatMr.Stevensonhadastyleofhisown，modelledtosomeextentontheessayistsofthelastcentury，butwithtouchesofThackeray;withoriginalbreaksandturns，withadelicatefreakishness，inshort，andadeterminedloveofsayingthingsasthenewspapersdonotsaythem.Allthisworkundoubtedlysmeltatrifleofthelamp，andwasthereforedeartosome，andanoffencetoothers.Formypart，Ihaddelightedintheessays，fromthefirstthatappearedinMacmillan’sMagazine，shortlyaftertheFranco—Germanwar.Inthislittlestudy，"OrderedSouth，"Mr.

StevensonwasemployinghimselfinextractingallthemelancholypleasurewhichtheRivieracangivetoaweariedbodyandamindresistingthecloudsofearlymalady，"Alas，thewornandbrokenboard，Howcanitbearthepainter’sdye！

Theharpofstrainedandtunelesschord，Howtotheminstrel’sskillreply！

Toachingeyeseachlandscapelowers，Tofeverishpulseeachgaleblowschill，AndAraby’sorEden’sbowersWerebarrenasthismoorlandhill，"—

wroteScott，inanhourofmaladyanddepression.Butthiswasnotthespiritof"OrderedSouth"：theyoungersoulroseagainstthetyrannyofthebody;andthatfamiliarglamourwhich，inillness，robsTintorettoofhisglow，didnotspoilthemidlandseatoMr.

Stevenson.Hisgallantandcheerystoicismwerealreadywithhim;

andsoperfect，ifatrifleoverstudied，washisstyle，thatonealreadyforesawanewandcharmingessayist.

Butnoneofthoseearlyworks，northedelightfulbookonEdinburgh，prophesiedofthestoryteller.Mr.Stevenson’sfirstpublishedtales，the"NewArabianNights，"originallyappearedinaquaintlyeditedweeklypaper，whichnobodyread，ornobodybutthewritersinitscolumns.Theywelcomedthestrangeromanceswithrejoicings：

butperhapstherewasonlyoneofthemwhoforesawthatMr.

Stevenson’sfortewastobefiction，notessaywriting;thathewastoappealwithsuccesstothelargepublic，andnottothetinycirclewhosurroundtheessayist.ItdidnotseemlikelythatourincalculablepublicwouldmakethemselvesathomeinthosefantasticpurlieuswhichMr.Stevenson’sfancydiscoveredneartheStrand.

TheimpossibleYoungManwiththeCreamTarts，theghastlyrevelsoftheSuicideClub，theOrientalcapricesoftheHansomCabs——whocouldforeseethatthepublicwouldtastethem！ItistruethatMr.

Stevenson’simaginationmadethePresidentoftheClub，andthecowardlymember，Mr.Malthus，asrealastheywereterrible.Hisromancealwaysgoeshandinhandwithreality;andMr.Malthusisasmuchanactualmanofskinandbone，asSilasLaphamisamanoffleshandblood.Theworldsawthis，andapplaudedthe"NoctesofPrinceFloristan，"inafairyLondon.

Yet，excellentanduniqueasthesethingswere，Mr.Stevensonhadnotyet"foundhimself."Itwouldbemoretruetosaythathehadonlydiscoveredoutlyingskirtsofhisdominions.Hasheeverhitontheroadtothecapitalyet？andwillheeverenteritlaurelled，andintriumph？Thatispreciselywhatonemaydoubt，notaswithouthope.Heisalwaysmakingdiscoveriesinhisrealm;itislesscertainthathewillenteritschiefcityinstate.Hisnextworkwasratherinthenatureofannexationandinvasionthanasettlingofhisownrealms."PrinceOtto"isnot，tomymind，arulerinhispropersoil.TheprovincesofGeorgeSandandofMr.

GeorgeMeredithhavebeentakencaptive."PrinceOtto"isfantasticindeed，butneitherthefantasynorthestyleisquiteMr.

Stevenson’s.Thereareexcellentpassages，andtheScotchsoldieroffortuneiswelcome，andtheladiesaboundinsubtletyandwit.

Butthebook，atleasttomyself，seemsanextremelyelaborateandskilfulpastiche.Icannotbelieveinthepersons.Ivaguelysmellamoralallegory（asin"WilloftheMill"）.Idonotclearlyunderstandwhatitisallabout.Thesceneisfairyland;butitisnotthefairylandofPerrault.Theladiesarebeautifulandwitty;

buttheyareescapedfromanovelofMr.Meredith’s，andhavenobusinesshere.ThebookisnomoreMr.Stevenson’sthan"TheTaleofTwoCities"wasMr.Dickens’s.

Itwasprobablybywayofmerediversionandchild’splaythatMr.

Stevensonbegan"TreasureIsland."Heisanamateurofboyishpleasuresofmasterpiecesatapennyplainandtwopencecoloured.

Probablyhehadlookedatthestoriesofadventureinpennypaperswhichonlyboysread，andhedeterminedsportivelytocompetewiththeirunknownauthors."TreasureIsland"cameoutinsuchaperiodical，withtheemphaticwoodcutswhichadornthem.Itissaidthatthepuerilepublicwasnotgreatlystirred.Astoryisastory，andtheyratherpreferredtheregularpurveyors.Theveryfaintarchaismofthestylemayhavealienatedthem.But，when"TreasureIsland"appearedasarealbook，theneveryonewhohadasmackofyouthleftwasaboyagainforsomehappyhours.Mr.

Stevensonhadenteredintoanotherprovinceofhisrealm：thekinghadcometohisownagain.

Theysaytheseamanshipisinaccurate;IcarenomorethanIdofortheyear30.Theysaytoomanypeoplearekilled.Theyalldiedinfairfight，exceptavictimofJohnSilver’s.TheconclusionisalittletoolikepartofPoe’smostcelebratedtale，butnobodyhasbellowed"Plagiarist！"Somepeoplemaynotlookoverafence：Mr.

Stevenson，ifheliked，mightstealahorse，——theanimalinthiscaseisonlyaskeleton.Averysoberstudentmightaddthattheheroisimpossiblyclever;but，then，theheroisaboy，andthisisaboy’sbook.Fortherest，thecharacterslive.OnlygeniuscouldhaveinventedJohnSilver，thatterriblysmooth—spokenmariner.

Nothingbutgeniuscouldhavedrawnthatsimpleyokelontheisland，withhiscravingforcheeseasaChristiandainty.TheblusteringBillyBonesisalittlemasterpiece：theblindPew，withhistappingstick（therearethreesuchblindtappersinMr.Stevenson’sbooks），strikesterrorintotheboldest.Then，thetreasureisthoroughlysatisfactoryinkind，andthereisplentyofit.Thelandscape，asinthefeverish，fog—smotheredflat，isgallantlypainted.Andtherearenointerferingpetticoatsinthestory.

Asforthe"BlackArrow，"Iconfesstosharingthedisabilitiesofthe"CriticontheHearth，"towhomitisdedicated."Kidnapped"islessastorythanafragment;butitisanoblefragment.Settingasidethewickedolduncle，whoinhislaterbehaviourisofthehouseofRalphNickleby，"Kidnapped"isallexcellent——perhapsMr.

Stevenson’smasterpiece.Perhaps，too，onlyaScotchmanknowshowgooditis，andonlyaLowlandScotknowshowadmirableacharacteristhedour，brave，conceitedDavidBalfour.ItislikebeinginScotlandagaintocomeon"thegreendrive—roadrunningwidethroughtheheather，"whereDavid"tookhislastlookofKirkEssendean，thetreesaboutthemanse，andthebigrowansinthekirkyard，wherehisfatherandmotherlay."PerfectlyScotch，too，isthemouldering，emptyhouseoftheMiser，withthestampedleatheronthewalls.

AndtheMiserisasgoodasaScotchTrapbois，tillhebecomeshomicidal，andthenonefailstorecognisehimunlessheisalittlemad，likethatotherfranticunclein"TheMerryMen."Thescenesontheship，withtheboywhoismurdered，arebetter——Ithinkmorereal——thanthescenesofpiraticallifein"TheMasterofBallantrae."ThefightintheRoundHouse，evenifitwereexaggerated，wouldberedeemedbythe"SongoftheSwordofAlan."

AstoAlanBreckhimself，withhisvalourandvanity，hisgoodheart，hisgoodconceitofhimself，hisfantasticloyalty，heisabsolutelyworthyofthehandthatdrewCallumBeyandtheDougalcreature.Itisjustpossiblethatwesee，in"Kidnapped，"moresignsofdeterminedlabour，moreevidenceoftouchesandretouches，thanin"RobRoy."Innothingelsewhichitattemptsisitinferior;inmasteryoflandscape，asinthesceneofthelonelyrockinadryandthirstyland，itisunsurpassed.IftherearesignsoflabouredhandlingonAlan，therearenoneinthesketchesofClunyandofRobRoy’sson，thepiper.WhatagenerousartistisAlan！"RobinOig，"hesaid，whenitwasdone，"yeareagreatpiper.Iamnotfittoblowinthesamekingdomwithyou.Bodyofme！yehavemairmusicinyoursporranthanIhaveinmyhead."

"Kidnapped，"wesaid，isafragment.Itendsanywhere，ornowhere，asifthepenhaddroppedfromawearyhand.Thus，andforotherreasons，onecannotpretendtosetwhatisnotreallyawholeagainstsucharoundedwholeas"RobRoy，"oragainst"TheLegendofMontrose."Again，"Kidnapped"isanovelwithoutawomaninit：

nothereisDiVernon，nothereisHelenMcGregor.DavidBalfouristhepragmaticLowlander;hedoesnotbearcomparison，excellentasheis，withBaillieNicolJarvie，thehumorousLowlander：hedoesnotliveinthememoryliketheimmortalBaillie.Itisasaseriesofscenesandsketchesthat"Kidnapped"isunmatchedamongMr.

Stevenson’sworks.

In"TheMasterofBallantrae"Mr.StevensonmakesagallantefforttoenterwhatIhaveventuredtocallthecapitalofhiskingdom.

Hedoesintroduceawoman，andconfrontstheproblemsofloveaswellasoffraternalhatred.The"Master"isstudied，ispolishedadunguem;itisawholeinitself，itisaremarkablydaringattempttowritethetragedy，as，in"Waverley，"Scottwrotetheromance，ofScotlandaboutthetimeoftheForty—Five.Withsuchapredecessorandrival，Mr.StevensonwiselyleavesthepompsandbattlesoftheForty—Five，itschivalryandgallantry，alone.Heshowsustheseamyside：theintrigues，domesticandpolitical;theneedyIrishadventurerwiththePrince，apersonwhomScotthadnotstudied.Thebook，ifcompletelysuccessful，wouldbeMr.

Stevenson’s"BrideofLammermoor."Tobefrank，Idonotthinkitcompletelysuccessful——avictoryallalongtheline.TheobviousweakpointisSecundraDass，thatIndianofunknownnationality;forsurelyhisnamemarkshimasnoHindoo.TheMastercouldnothavebroughthim，shiveringlikeJosSedley’sblackservant，toScotland.

AsinAmerica，thisalienwouldhavefoundit"toodamcold."Mypowerofbelief（whichvergesoncredulity）isstaggeredbytheghastlyattempttoreanimatetheburiedMaster.Here，atleasttomytaste，thefreakishchangelinghasgotthebetterofMr.

Stevenson，andhasbroughtinanelementoutofkeepingwiththesteadyluridtragedyoffraternalhatred.Foralltherest，itwereahardjudgethathadanythingbutpraise.ThebrilliantblackguardismoftheMaster;histouchofsentimentasheleavesDurisdeerforthelasttime，withasadoldsongonhislips;hisfascination;hisruthlessness;hisirony;——allareperfect.ItisnotveryeasytounderstandtheChevalierBourke，thatBarryLyndon，withnoheadandwithagoodheart，thatcreatureofabewilderedkindlyconscience;butitiseasytolikehim.HowadmirableishisundeflectedbeliefinandaffectionfortheMaster！HowexcellentandhowIrishheis，whenhebuffoonshimselfoutofhisperilswiththepirates！Thescenesarebrilliantandliving，aswhentheMasterthrowstheguineathroughtheHallwindow，orasinthedarklingduelinthegarden.ItneededanaustereartisticconsciencetomakeHenry，theyoungerbrother，sounlovablewithallhisexcellence，andtokeeptheladysotrue，yetsomuchinshadow.

ThisisthebestwomanamongMr.Stevenson’sfewwomen;butevensheisalmostalwaysreserved，veiledasitwere.

TheoldLord，again，isaportraitaslifelikeasScottcouldhavedrawn，andmoredelicatelytouchedthanScottwouldhavecaredtodrawit：aFrenchcompanionpicturetotheBaronBradwardine.ThewholepiecereadsasifMr.Stevensonhadengagedinastrugglewithhimselfashewrote.Theskyisneverblue，thesunnevershines：

wewearyfora"westlandwind."Thereissomething"thrawn，"astheScotchsay，aboutthestory;thereisoftenatouchofthissinisterkindintheauthor’swork.Thelanguageisextraordinarilyartful，asinthemadlord’swords，"Ihavefeltthehiltdirlonhisbreast—bone."Andyet，oneishardlythrilledasoneexpectstobe，when，asMackellarsays，"theweek—oldcorpselookedmeforamomentintheface."

ProbablynoneofMr.Stevenson’smanybookshasmadehisnamesofamiliaras"Dr.JekyllandMrHyde."Ireaditfirstinmanuscript，alone，atnight;and，whentheButlerandMr.UrmsoncametotheDoctor’sdoor，IconfessthatIthrewitdown，andwenthastilytobed.Itisthemostgruesomeofallhiswritings，andsoperfectthatonecancomplainonlyoftheslightlytooobviousmoral;and，again，thatreallyMr.HydewasmoreofagentlemanthantheunctuousDr.Jekyll，withhis"bedsidemanner."

Sohere，nottospeakofsomeadmirableshortstorieslike"ThrawnJanet，"isabriefcatalogue——littlemore——ofMr.Stevenson’sliterarybaggage.Itisallgood，thoughvariouslygood;yetthewiseworldasksforthemasterpiece.ItissaidthatMr.Stevensonhasnotventuredonthedelicateanddangerousgroundofthenovel，becausehehasnotwrittenamodernlovestory.Butwhohas？ThereareloveaffairsinDickens，butdowerememberorcareforthem？

IsittheloveaffairsthatwerememberinScott？ThackeraymaytouchuswithClive’sandJackBelsize’smisfortunes，withEsmond’smelancholypassion，andamuseuswithPeninsomanytoils，andinterestusinthelittleheroineofthe"ShabbyGenteelStory."

ButitisnotbyvirtueofthoseepisodesthatThackerayissogreat.Lovestoriesarebestdonebywomen，asin"Mr.Gilfil’sLoveStory";and，perhaps，inanordinaryway，bywriterslikeTrollope.OnemaydefycriticstonameagreatEnglishauthorinfictionwhosechiefanddistinguishingmeritisinhispicturesofthepassionofLove.Still，theyallgiveLovehisduestrokeinthebattle，andperhapsMr.Stevensonwilldososomeday.ButI

confessthat，ifheeverexcelshimself，Idonotexpectittobeinalovestory.

Possiblyitmaybeinaplay.Ifheagainattemptthedrama，hehasthisinhisfavour，thathewillnotdealinsupernumeraries.Inhistaleshisminorcharactersareascarefullydrawnashischiefpersonages.Consider，forexample，theminister，Henderland，themanwhoissofondofsnuff，in"Kidnapped，"and，inthe"MasterofBallantrae，"SirWilliamJohnson，theEnglishGovernor.Theyaretheworkofamindasattentivetodetails，asreadytosubordinateorobliteratedetailswhichareunessential.ThusMr.Stevenson’swritingsbreatheequallyofworkinthestudyandofinspirationfromadventureintheopenair，andthushewinseveryvote，andpleaseseveryclassofreader.

THOMASHAYNESBAYLY

Icannotsingtheoldsongs，norindeedanyothers，butIcanreadthem，intheneglectedworksofThomasHaynesBayly.ThenameofBaylymaybeunfamiliar，buteveryonealmosthasheardhisdittieschanted——everyonemuchoverforty，atallevents."I’llhangmyHarponaWillowTree，"and"I’dbeaButterfly，"and"Oh，no！wenevermentionHer，"aredimlydeartoeveryfriendofMr.RichardSwiveller.Iftobesungeverywhere，tohearyourversesutteredinharmonywithallpianosandquotedbytheworldatlarge，befame，Baylyhadit.Hewasanunaffectedpoet.Hewrotewordstoairs，andheisalmostabsolutelyforgotten.Toreadhimistobecarriedbackonthewingsofmusictothebowersofyouth;andtothebowersofyouthIhavebeenwafted，andtotheoldbooksellers.YoudonotfindoneverystallthepoemsofBayly;butacopyintwovolumeshasbeendiscovered，editedbyMr.Bayly’swidow（Bentley，1844）.

Theysawthelightinthesameyearasthepresentcritic，andperhapstheyceasedtobeverypopularbeforehewasbreeched.Mr.

Bayly，accordingtoMrs.Bayly，"ablypenetratedthesourcesofthehumanheart，"likeShakespeareandMr.Howells.Healso"gavetominstrelsytheattributesofintellectandwit，"and"reclaimedevenfestivesongfromvulgarity，"inwhich，sincetheageofAnacreon，festivesonghasnotoriouslywallowed.ThepoetwhodidallthiswasbornatBathinOct.1797.Hisfatherwasagenteelsolicitor，andhisgreat—grandmotherwassistertoLordDelamere，whilehehadaremotebaronetonthemother’sside.Totracetheancestralsourceofhisgeniuswasdifficult，asinthecaseofGiftedHopkins;butitwasbelievedtoflowfromhismaternalgrandfather，Mr.Freeman，whomhisfriend，LordLavington，regardedas"oneofthefinestpoetsofhisage."BaylywasatschoolatWinchester，whereheconductedaweeklycollegenewspaper.Hisfather，likeScott’s，wouldhavemadehimalawyer;but"theyouthtookagreatdisliketoit，forhisideaslovedtodwellintheregionsoffancy，"whichareclosedtoattorneys.Sohethoughtofbeingaclergyman，andwassenttoSt.Mary’sHall，Oxford.There"hedidnotapplyhimselftothepursuitofacademicalhonours，"butfellinlovewithayoungladywhosebrotherhehadtendedinafatalillness.But"theywerebothtoowisetothinkoflivinguponlove，and，aftermutualtearsandsighs，theypartednevertomeetagain.

Thelady，thoughgrieved，wasnotheartbroken，andsoonbecamethewifeofanother."Theyusuallydo.Mr.Bayly’sregretwasmoreprofound，andexpresseditselfinthetouchingditty：

"Oh，no，wenevermentionher，Hernameisneverheard，MylipsarenowforbidtospeakThatoncefamiliarword;

FromsporttosporttheyhurrymeTobanishmyregret，Andwhentheyonlyworryme—

[IbegMr.Bayly’spardon]

"Andwhentheywinasmilefromme，TheyfancyIforget.

"TheybidmeseekinchangeofsceneThecharmsthatotherssee，ButwereIinaforeignlandThey’dfindnochangeinme.

’TistruethatIbeholdnomoreThevalleywherewemet;

Idonotseethehawthorntree，ButhowcanIforget？"

***

"Theytellmesheishappynow，[Andsoshewas，infact.]

Thegayestofthegay;

Theyhintthatshe’sforgottenme;

Butheednotwhattheysay.

Likeme，perhaps，shestruggleswithEachfeelingofregret：

’Tistrueshe’smarriedMr.Smith，But，ah，doessheforget！"

Thetemptationtoparodyisreallytoostrong;thelastlines，actuallyandinanauthentictext，are：

"ButifshelovesasIhaveloved，Shenevercanforget."

Baylyhadnowstruckthenote，thesweet，sentimentalnote，oftheearly，innocent，Victorianage.Jeamesimitatedhim：

"R.Hangeline，R.Ladymine，DostthourememberJeames！"

Weshoulddothetrickquitedifferentlynow，morelikethis：

"Lovespaketomeandsaid：

’Oh，lips，bemute;

Letthatonenamebedead，Thatmemoryflownandfled，Untouchedthatlute！

Goforth，’saidLove，’withwillowinthyhand，AndinthyhairDeadblossomswear，Blownfromthesunlessland.

"’Goforth，’saidLove;’thounevermoreshaltseeHershadowglimmerbythetrystingtree;

ButSHEisglad，Withrosescrownedandclad，Whohathforgottenthee！’

ButImadeanswer：’Love！

Tellmenomorethereof，ForshehasdrunkofthatsamecupasI.

Yea，thoughhereyesbedry，ShegarnersthereformeTearssalterthanthesea，Eventillthedayshedie.’

SogaveILovethelie."

IdeclareInearlyweepovertheselines;for，thoughtheyareonlyBayly’ssentimenthastilyrecastinamodernmanner，thereissomethingsoveryaffecting，mouldy，andunwholesomeaboutthem，thattheysoundasiftheyhadbeen"writtenupto"asketchbyadiscipleofMr.Rossetti’s.

Inamoodmuchmoremanlyandmoral，Mr.Baylywroteanotherpoemtotheyounglady：

"Maythylotinlifebehappy，undisturbedbythoughtsofme，TheGodwhosheltersinnocencethyguardandguidewillbe.

Thyheartwilllosethechillingsenseofhopelessloveatlast，Andthesunshineofthefuturechasetheshadowsofthepast."

Itisaseasyasprosetosinginthismanner.Forexample：

"Infact，weneednotbeconcerned;’atlast’comesverysoon，andourEmiliaquiteforgetsthememoryofthemoon，themoonthatshoneonherandus，thewoodsthatheardourvows，themoaningofthewaters，andthemurmuroftheboughs.Sheishappywithanother，andbyherwe’requiteforgot;sheneverletsathoughtofusbringshadowonherlot;andifwemeetatdinnershe’stooclevertorepine，andmentionsustoMr.Smithas’Anoldflameofmine.’AndshallIgrievethatitisthus？andwouldIhaveherweep，andloseherhealthyappetiteandbreakherhealthysleep？Notso，she’snotpoetical，thoughne’ershallIforgetthefairyofmyfancywhomI

oncethoughtIhadmet.Thefairyofmyfancy！Itwasfancy，mostthingsare;heremotionswerenotsteadfastastheshiningofastar;but，ah，Iloveherimageyet，asonceitshoneonme，andswayedmeasthelowmoonswaysthesurgingofthesea."

AmongothersportshisanxiousfriendshurriedthelovelornBaylytoScotland，wherehewrotemuchverse，andthentoDublin，whichcompletedhiscure."Heseemedinthemidstofthecrowdthegayestofall，hislaughterrangmerryandloudatbanquetandhall."HethoughtnomoreofstudyingfortheChurch，butwentbacktoBath，metaMissHayes，wasfascinatedbyMissHayes，"came，saw，butdidNOTconqueratonce，"saysMrs.HaynesBayly（neeHayes）withwidow’spride.HerlovelynamewasHelena;andIdeeplyregrettoaddthat，afteraneducationatOxford，Mr.Bayly，inhispoems，accentuatedthepenultimate，which，ofcourse，isshort.

"Oh，thinknot，Helena，ofleavingusyet，"

hecarolled，whenitwouldhavebeenjustaseasy，andahundredtimesmorecorrect，tosing—

"Oh，Helena，thinknotofleavingusyet."

MissHayeshadlandsinIreland，alas！andMr.Baylyinsinuatedthat，likeKingEasterandKingWesterintheballad，herloverscourtedherforherlandsandherfee;buthe，likeKingHonour，"ForherbonnyfaceAndforherfairbodie."

In1825（afterbeingelectedtotheAthenaeum）Mr.Bayly"atlastfoundfavourintheeyesofMissHayes."Hepresentedherwithalittlerubyheart，whichsheaccepted，andtheyweremarried，andatfirstwerewell—to—do，MissHayesbeingtheheiressofBenjaminHayes，Esq.，ofMarbleHill，incountyCork.AfriendofMr.

Bayly’sdescribedhimthus：

"IneverhavemetonthischillingearthSomerry，sokind，sofrankayouth，Inmomentsofpleasureasmileallmirth，Inmomentsofsorrowaheartoftruth.

Ihaveheardtheepraised，IhaveseentheeledByFashionalonghergaycareer;

WhilebeautifullipshaveoftenshedTheirflatteringpoisoninthineear."

Yethesaysthatthepoetwasunspoiled.Onhishoneymoon，atLordAshdown’s，Mr.Bayly，flyingfromsomefairsirens，retreatedtoabower，andtherewrotehisworld—famous"I’dbeaButterfly."

"I’dbeabutterfly，livingarover，Dyingwhenfairthingsarefadingaway."

Theplaceinwhichthedeathlessstrainswelledfromthesinger’sheartwashenceforthknownas"ButterflyBower."Henowwroteanovel，"TheAylmers，"whichhasgonewheretheoldmoonsgo，andhebecameratheraliterarylion，andmadetheacquaintanceofTheodoreHook.Thelossofasoncausedhimtowritesomedevotionalverses，whichwerenotwhathedidbest;andnowhebegantotrycomedies.

Oneofthem，SoldforaSong，succeededverywell.Inthestage—

coachbetweenWycombeAbbeyandLondonhewroteasuccessfullittleleverderideaucalledPerfection;anditwasluckythatheopenedthisvein，forhiswife’sIrishpropertygotintoanIrishbogofdishonestyanddifficulty.Thirty—fivepieceswerecontributedbyhimtotheBritishstage.Afteralongillness，hediedonApril22nd，1829.Hedidnotlive，thisbutterflyminstrel，intothewinterofhumanage.

OfhispoemstheinevitablecriticismmustbethathewasaTomMooreofmuchloweraccomplishments.Hisbusinesswastocarolofthemostvapidandobvioussentiment，andtostringflowers，fruits，trees，breeze，sorrow，to—morrow，knights，coal—blacksteeds，regret，deception，andsoforth，intofervidanapaestics.Perhapshissuccesslayinknowingexactlyhowlittlesenseinpoetrycomposerswillendureandsingerswillaccept.Why，"wordsformusic"arealmostinvariablytrashnow，thoughthewordsofElizabethansongsarebetterthananymusic，isagloomyanddifficultquestion.Likemostpoets，Imyselfdetestthesisterart，anddon’tknowanythingaboutit.ButanyonecanseethatwordslikeBayly’sareandhavelongbeenmuchmorepopularwithmusicalpeoplethanwordslikeShelley’s，Keats’s，Shakespeare’s，Fletcher’s，Lovelace’s，orCarew’s.Thenaturalexplanationisnotflatteringtomusicalpeople：atallevents，thesingingworlddotedonBayly.

"Sheneverblamedhim——never，ButreceivedhimwhenhecameWithawelcomesortofshiver，Andshetriedtolookthesame.

"Butvainlyshedissembled，Forwhene’ershetriedtosmile，AtearunbiddentrembledInherblueeyeallthewhile."

Thiswaspleasantfor"him";butthepointisthatthesearelinestoanIndianair.Shelley，also，aboutthesametime，wroteLinestoanIndianair;butwemay"swear，andsaveouroath，"thatthesingerspreferredBayly’s.TennysonandColeridgecouldneverequalthepopularityofwhatfollows.IshallasktheperseveringreadertotellmewhereBaylyends，andwhereparodybegins：

"Whentheeyeofbeautycloses，Whenthewearyareatrest，WhentheshadethesunsetthrowsisButavapourinthewest;

WhenthemoonlighttipsthebillowWithawreathofsilverfoam，AndthewhisperofthewillowBreakstheslumberofthegnome，—

Nightmaycome，butsleepwilllinger，Whenthespirit，allforlorn，Shutsitsearagainstthesinger，AndtherustleofthecornRoundthesadoldmansionsobbingBidsthewakefulmaidrecallWhoitwasthatcausedthethrobbingOfherbosomattheball."

Willthisnotdotosingjustaswellastheoriginal？andisitnottruethat"almostanymanyoupleasecouldreelitofffordaystogether"？Anythingwilldothatspeaksofforgettingpeople，andofbeingforsaken，andaboutthesunset，andtheivy，andtherose.

"TellmenomorethatthetideofthineanguishIsredastheheart’sbloodandsaltasthesea;

Thatthestarsintheircoursescommandtheetolanguish，Thatthehandofenjoymentisloosenedfromthee！

"Tellmenomorethat，forgotten，forsaken，Thouroamestthewildwood，thousigh’stontheshore.

Nay，rentisthepledgethatofoldwehadtaken，Andthewordsthathaveboundme，theybindtheenomore！

"Erethesunhadgonedownonthysorrow，themaidensWerewreathingtheorange’sbudinthyhair，AndthetrumpetsweretuningthemusicalcadenceThatgavethee，abride，tothebaronet’sheir.

"Farewell，maynothoughtpiercethybreastofthytreason;

Farewell，andbehappyinHubert’sembrace.

Bethebelleoftheball，bethebrideoftheseason，Withdiamondsbedizenedandlanguidinlace."

Thisismine，andIsay，withmodestpride，thatitisquiteasgoodas—

"Go，may’stthoubehappy，Thoughsadlywepart，Inlife’searlysummerGriefbreaksnottheheart.

"TheillsthatassailusAsspeedilypassAsshadeso’eramirror，Whichstainnottheglass."

Anybodycoulddoit，wesay，inwhatEdgarPoecalls"themadprideofintellectuality，"anditcertainlylooksasifitcouldbedonebyanybody.Forexample，takeBaylyasamoralist.Hisideasareoutofthecentre.Thisisabouthisstandard：

"CRUELTY.

"’BreaknotthethreadthespiderIslabouringtoweave.’

Isaid，norasIeyedherCoulddreamshewoulddeceive.

"Herbrowwaspureandcandid，Hertendereyesabove;

AndI，ifevermandid，Fellhopelesslyinlove.

"ForwhocoulddeemthatcruelSofairafacemightbe？

ThateyessolikeajewelWereonlypasteforme？

"Iwovemythread，aspiringWithinherhearttoclimb;

IwovewithzealuntiringForeversuchatime！

"But，ah！thatthreadwasbrokenAllbyherfingersfair，ThevowsandprayersI’vespokenArevanishedintoair！"

DidBaylywritethatdittyordidI？Uponmyword，Icanhardlytell.IambeinghypnotisedbyBayly.Ilispinnumbers，andthenumberscomelikemad.Icanhardlyaskforalightwithoutaboundinginhisartlessvein.Easy，easyitseems;andyetitwasBaylyafterall，notyounorI，whowrotetheclassic—

"I’llhangmyharponawillowtree，AndI’llgotothewaragain，Forapeacefulhomehasnocharmforme，Abattlefieldnopain;

TheladyIlovewillsoonbeabride，Withadiademonherbrow.

Ah，whydidsheflattermyboyishpride？

Sheisgoingtoleavemenow！"

Itislikelistening，inthesadyellowevening，tothestrainsofabarrelorgan，faintandsweet，andfaraway.Aworldofmemoriescomejiggingback——foolishfancies，dreams，desires，allbeckoningandbobbingtotheoldtune：

"OhhadIbutlovedwithaboyishlove，Itwouldhavebeenwellforme."

HowdoesBaylymanageit？Whatisthetrickofit，theobvious，simple，meretricioustrick，whichsomehow，afterall，letusmockaswewill，Baylycoulddo，andwecannot？Hereallyhadaslim，serviceable，smirking，andsighinglittletalentofhisown;and——

well，wehavenoteventhat.Nobodyforgets"TheladyIlovewillsoonbeabride."

Nobodyremembersourcultivatedepicsandesotericsonnets，ohbrotherminorpoet，monsemblable，monfrere！Norcanwerival，thoughwepublishourbooksonthelargestpaper，theburiedpopularityof"GailythetroubadourTouchedhisguitarWhenhewashasteningHomefromthewar，Singing，"FromPalestineHitherIcome，Ladylove！Ladylove！

Welcomemehome！"

Ofcoursethisis，historically，averyincorrectrenderingofaLanguedoccrusader;andtheimpressionisnotmediaeval，butofthecomicopera.Anyoneofuscouldgetinmorelocalcolourforthemoney，andgivethecrusaderacithernorcitoleinsteadofaguitar.Thisishowweshoulddo"GailytheTroubadour"nowadays：—

"SirRalphheishardyandmickleofmight，Ha，labelleblancheaubepine！

Soldanssevenhathheslaininfight，HonneurelabelleIsoline！

"SirRalphheridethinrivenmail，Ha，labelleblancheaubepine！

Beneathhisnasalishisdarkfacepale，HonneurelabelleIsoline！

"Hiseyestheyblazeastheburningcoal，Ha，labelleblancheaubepine！

Hesmitethastaveonhisgoldcitole，HonneurelabelleIsoline！

"Fromhermangonelshelookethforth，Ha，labelleblancheaubepine！

’Whoishespurrethsolatetothenorth？’

HonneurelabelleIsoline！

"Hark！forhespeakethaknightlyname，Ha，labelleblancheaubepine！

Andherwancheekglowsasaburningflame，HonneurelabelleIsoline！

"ForSirRalphheishardyandmickleofmight，Ha，labelleblancheaubepine！

Andhisloveshallungirdlehisswordto—night，HonneurelabelleIsoline！"

Suchistheromantic，esoteric，oldFrenchwayofsaying—

"Hark，’tisthetroubadourBreathinghernameUnderthebattlementSoftlyhecame，Singing，"FromPalestineHitherIcome.

Ladylove！Ladylove！

Welcomemehome！"

Themoralofallthisisthatminorpoetryhasitsfashions，andthatthebutterflyBaylycouldversifyverysuccessfullyinthefashionofatimesimplerandlesspedanticthanourown.Onthewhole，minorpoetryforminorpoetry，thisartlesssinger，pipinghisnativedrawing—roomnotes，gaveagreatdealofperfectlyharmless，ifhighlyuncultivated，enjoyment.

ItmustnotbefanciedthatMr.Baylyhadonlyonestringtohisbow——or，rather，tohislyre.Hewroteagreatdeal，tobesure，aboutthepassionoflove，whichCountTolstoithinkswemaketoomuchof.HedidnotdreamthattheaffairsoftheheartshouldberegulatedbytheState——bythePermanentSecretaryoftheMarriageOffice.Thatiswhatwearecomingto，ofcourse，unlesstheenthusiastsof"freelove"and"goawayasyouplease"failedwiththeirlittleprogramme.NodoubttherewouldbepoetryiftheStateregulatedorleftwhollyunregulatedtheaffectionsofthefuture.

Mr.Bayly，livinginothertimes，amongothermanners，pipedofthehardtyrannyofamother：

"Wemet，’twasinacrowd，andIthoughthewouldshunme.

Hecame，Icouldnotbreathe，forhiseyewasuponme.

Hespoke，hiswordswerecold，andhissmilewasunaltered，Iknewhowmuchhefelt，forhisdeep—tonedvoicefaltered.

Iworemybridalrobe，andIrivalleditswhiteness;

Brightgemswereinmyhair，——howIhatedtheirbrightness！

Hecalledmebymynameasthebrideofanother.

Oh，thouhastbeenthecauseofthisanguish，mymother！"

Infuture，whenthereformersofmarriagehavehadtheirway，weshallread：

"Theworldmaythinkmegay，forIbowtomyfate;

Butthouhastbeenthecauseofmyanguish，OState！"

ForevenwhentrueloveisregulatedbytheCountyCouncilorthevillagecommunity，itwillstillpersistinnotrunningsmooth.

Ofthesepassions，then，Mr.Baylycouldchant;butletusrememberthathecouldalsodallywitholdromance，thathewrote：

"Themistletoehunginthecastlehall，Thehollybranchshoneontheoldoakwall."

Whenthebrideunluckilygotintotheancientchest，"Itclosedwithaspring.And，dreadfuldoom，Thebridelayclaspedinherlivingtomb，"

sothatherlover"mournedforhisfairybride，"andneverfoundoutherprematurecasket.ThiswastrueromanceasunderstoodwhenPeelwasconsul.Mr.Baylywasrarelypolitical;buthecommemoratedtheheroesofWaterloo，ourlastvictoryworthmentioning：

"Yetmournnotforthem，forinfuturetraditionTheirfameshallabideasourtutelarstar，ToinstilbyexamplethegloriousambitionOffalling，likethem，inagloriouswar.

Thoughtearsmaybeseeninthebrighteyesofbeauty，Oneconsolationmusteverremain：

Undauntedtheytrodinthepathwayofduty，WhichledthemtogloryonWaterloo’splain."

CouldtherebeamoresimpleTyrtaeus？andwhothatreadshimwillnotbeambitiousoffallinginagloriouswar？Bayly，indeed，isalwayssimple.Heis"simple，sensuous，andpassionate，"andMiltonaskednomorefromapoet.

"Awreathoforangeblossoms，Whennextwemet，shewore.

TheexpressionofherfeaturesWasmorethoughtfulthanbefore."

OnhisownprinciplesWordsworthshouldhaveadmiredthisunaffectedstatement;butWordsworthrarelypraisedhiscontemporaries，andsaidthat"GuyMannering"wasarespectableeffortinthestyleofMrs.Radcliffe.Nordidheevenextol，thoughitismoreinhisownline，"Ofwhatistheoldmanthinking，Asheleansonhisoakenstaff？"

MyownfavouriteamongMr.Bayly’seffusionsisnotasentimentalode，butthefollowinggushoftruenaturalfeeling：—

"Oh，givemenewfaces，newfaces，newfaces，I’veseenthosearoundmeafortnightandmore.

Somepeoplegrowwearyofthingsorofplaces，Butpersonstomeareamuchgreaterbore.

Icarenotforfeatures，I’msuretodiscoverSomeexquisitetraitinthefirstthatyousend.

Myfondnessfallsoffwhenthenovelty’sover;

Iwantanewfaceforanintimatefriend."

Thisisperfectlycandid：weshouldallpreferanewface，ifpretty，everyfortnight：

"Come，Iprayyou，andtellmethis，Allgoodfellowswhosebeardsaregrey，DidnotthefairestofthefairCommongrowandwearisomeereEveramonthhadpassedaway？"

ForonceMr.Baylyutteredinhis"NewFaces"asentimentnotusuallyexpressed，butuniversallyfelt;andnowhesuffers，asapoet，becauseheisnolongeranewface，becausewehavewelcomedhisjuniors.ToBaylyweshallnotreturn;buthehasoneraremerit，——heisalwaysperfectlyplain—spokenandintelligible.

"FarewelltomyBayly，farewelltothesingerWhosetendereffusionsmyauntsusedtosing;

Farewell，forthefameofthebarddoesnotlinger，Myfavouriteminstrel’snolongerthething.

Butthoughonhistempleshasfadedthelaurel，Thoughbrokenthelute，andthoughveiledisthecrest，MyBayly，atworst，isuncommonlymoral，Whichismorethansomenewpoetsare，attheirbest."

FarewelltoourBayly，aboutwhosesongswemaysay，withMr.

Thackerayin"VanityFair，"that"theycontainnumberlessgood—

natured，simpleappealstotheaffections."Wearenolongeraffectionate，good—natured，simple.WeareclevererthanBayly’saudience;butarewebetterfellows？

THEODOREDEBANVILLE

ThereareliteraryreputationsinFranceandEnglandwhichseem，likethefairies，tobeunabletocrossrunningwater.DeanSwift，accordingtoM.PauldeSaint—Victor，isagreatmanatDover，apigmyatCalais——"Sontalent，quienthousiasmel’Angleterre，n’inspireailleursqu’unmorneetonnement."M.PaulDeSaint—VictorwasafairexampleoftheFrenchcritic，andwhathesaysaboutSwiftwaspossiblytrue，——forhim.ThereisnotmuchresemblancebetweentheDeanandM.TheodoredeBanville，exceptthatthelattertooisapoetwhohaslittlehonouroutofhisowncountry.HeisacharmingsingeratCalais;atDoverheinspiresunmorneetonnement（ableakperplexity）.OnehasneverseenanEnglishattempttodescribeorestimatehisgenius.HisunpopularityinEnglandisillustratedbythefactthattheLondonLibrary，thatrespectableinstitution，doesnot，ordidnot，possessasinglecopyofanyoneofhisbooks.HeisbutfeeblyrepresentedeveninthecollectionoftheBritishMuseum.ItisnothardtoaccountforourindifferencetoM.DeBanville.HeisapoetnotonlyintenselyFrench，butintenselyParisian.Heiscarefulofform，ratherthanabundantinmanner.Hehasnostorytotell，andhissketchesinprose，hisattemptsatcriticism，arenotveryweightyorinstructive.Withallhislimitations，however，herepresents，incompanywithM.LecontedeLisle，thesecondofthethreegenerationsofpoetsoverwhomVictorHugoreigned.

M.DeBanvillehasbeencalled，bypeoplewhodonotlike，andwhoapparentlyhavenotreadhim，unsaltimbanquelitteraire（aliteraryrope—dancer）.Othercritics，whodolikehim，butwhohavelimitedtheirstudytoacertainportionofhisbooks，comparehimtoaworkeringold，whocarefullychasesorembossesdaintyprocessionsoffaunsandmaenads.Heis，inpointoffact，somethingmoreestimablethanaliteraryrope—dancer，somethingmoreseriousthanaworkingjewellerinrhymes.Hecallshimselfunraffine;butheisnot，likemanypersonswhoareproudofthattitle，unindifferentinmattersofhumanfortune.Hisearlierpoems，ofcourse，aremuchconcernedwiththematterofmostearlypoems——withLydiaandCynthiaandtheirlightloves.Theversesofhissecondperiodoftendealwiththemostevanescentsubjects，andtheynowretainbutaslightpetulanceandsparkle，asofchampagnethathasbeentoolongdrawn.InaprefatorypleaforM.DeBanville’spoetryonemayaddthathe"haslovedourpeople，"andthatnopoet，nocritic，hashonouredShakespearewithbrighterwordsofpraise.

TheodoredeBanvillewasbornatMoulin，onMarch14th1823，andheisthereforethreeyearsyoungerthanthedictionariesofbiographywouldmaketheworldbelieve.Heisthesonofanavalofficer，and，accordingtoM.CharlesBaudelaire，adescendantoftheCrusaders.Hecamemuchtoolateintotheworldtodistinguishhimselfinthenoisyexploitsof1830，andthechiefeventofhisyouthwasthepublicationof"LesCariatides"in1842.Thisfirstvolumecontainedaselectionfromthecountlessverseswhichthepoetproducedbetweenhissixteenthandhisnineteenthyear.