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.