Thackeray in "Vanity Fair," that "they contain numberless good-
natured, simple appeals to the affections." We are no longer
affectionate, good-natured, simple. We are cleverer than Bayly's
audience; but are we better fellows?



THEODORE DE BANVILLE



There are literary reputations in France and England which seem,
like the fairies, to be unable to cross running water. Dean Swift,
according to M. Paul de Saint-Victor, is a great man at Dover, a
pigmy at Calais--"Son talent, qui enthousiasme l'Angleterre,
n'inspire ailleurs qu'un morne etonnement." M. Paul De Saint-Victor
was a fair example of the French critic, and what he says about
Swift was possibly true,--for him. There is not much resemblance
between the Dean and M. Theodore de Banville, except that the latter
too is a poet who has little honour out of his own country. He is a
charming singer at Calais; at Dover he inspires un morne etonnement
(a bleak perplexity). One has never seen an English attempt to
describe or estimate his genius. His unpopularity in England is
illustrated by the fact that the London Library, that respectable
institution, does not, or did not, possess a single copy of any one
of his books. He is but feebly represented even in the collection
of the British Museum. It is not hard to account for our
indifference to M. De Banville. He is a poet not only intensely
French, but intensely Parisian. He is careful of form, rather than
abundant in manner. He has no story to tell, and his sketches in