non…ball；　who　actually　　goes　forth　on　the　dread　mission；　claims　it　over　the　cannon；　　who　remains　idly　behind；　the　powder　reminds　the　cannon…ball　　that；　but　for　him；　it　would　still　be　lying　on　the　arsenal　　floor；　and　the　match　caps　the　discussion；　powder；　cannon…　ball；　and　cannon　would　be　all　equally　vain　and　ineffectual　　without　fire。　　Just　then　there　comes　on　a　shower　of　rain；　　which　wets　the　powder　and　puts　out　the　match；　and　completes　　this　lesson　of　dependence；　by　indicating　the　negative　　conditions　which　are　as　necessary　for　any　effect；　in　their　　absence；　as　is　the　presence　of　this　great　fraternity　of　　positive　conditions；　not　any　one　of　which　can　claim　priority　　over　any　other。　　But　the　fable　does　not　end　here；　as　perhaps；　　in　all　logical　strictness；　it　should。　　It　wanders　off　into　a　　discussion　as　to　which　is　the　truer　greatness；　that　of　the　　vanquished　fire　or　that　of　the　victorious　rain。　　And　the　　speech　of　the　rain　is　charming：
  'Lo；　with　my　little　drops　I　bless　again　And　beautify　the　fields　which　thou　didst　blast！　Rend；　wither；　waste；　and　ruin；　what　thou　wilt；　But　call　not　Greatness　what　the　Gods　call　Guilt。　Blossoms　and　grass　from　blood　in　battle　spilt；　And　poppied　corn；　I　bring。　'Mid　mouldering　Babels；　to　oblivion　built；　My　violets　spring。　Little　by　little　my　small　drops　have　strength　To　deck　with　green　delights　the　grateful　earth。'
  And　so　forth；　not　quite　germane　（it　seems　to　me）　to　the　　matter　in　hand；　but　welcome　for　its　own　sake。
  Best　of　all　are　the　fables　that　deal　more　immediately　with　　the　emotions。　　There　is；　for　instance；　that　of　'The　Two　　Travellers；'　which　is　profoundly　moving　in　conception；　　although　by　no　means　as　well　written　as　some　others。　　In　　this；　one　of　the　two；　fearfully　frost…bitten；　saves　his　life　　out　of　the　snow　at　the　cost　of　all　that　was　comely　in　his　　body；　just　as；　long　before；　the　other；　who　has　now　quietly　　resigned　himself　to　death；　had　violently　freed　himself　from　　Love　at　the　cost　of　all　that　was　finest　and　fairest　in　his　　character。　　Very　graceful　and　sweet　is　the　fable　（if　so　it　　should　be　called）　in　which　the　author　sings　the　praises　of　　that　'kindly　perspective；'　which　lets　a　wheat…stalk　near　the　　eye　cover　twenty　leagues　of　distant　country；　and　makes　the　　humble　circle　about　a　man's　hearth　more　to　him　than　all　the　　possibilities　of　the　external　world。　　The　companion　fable　to　　this　is　also　excellent。　　It　tells　us　of　a　man　who　had；　all　　his　life　through；　entertained　a　passion　for　certain　blue　　hills　on　the　far　horizon；　and　had　promised　himself　to　travel　　thither　ere　he　died；　and　become　familiar　with　these　distant　　friends。　　At　last；　in　some　political　trouble；　he　is　banished　　to　the　very　place　of　his　dreams。　　He　arrives　there　overnight；　　and；　when　he　rises　and　goes　forth　in　the　morning；　there　sure　　enough　are　the　blue　hills；　only　now　they　have　changed　places　　with　him；　and　smile　across　to　him；　distant　as　ever；　from　the　　old　home　whence　he　has　come。　　Such　a　story　might　have　been　　very　cynically　treated；　but　it　is　not　so　done；　the　whole　tone　　is　kindly　and　consolatory；　and　the　disenchanted　man　　submissively　takes　the　lesson；　and　understands　that　things　　far　away　are　to　be　loved　for　their　own　sake；　and　that　the　　unattainable　is　not　truly　unattainable；　when　we　can　make　the　　beauty　of　it　our　own。　　Indeed；　throughout　all　these　two　　volumes；　though　there　is　much　practical　scepticism；　and　much　　irony　on　abstract　questions；　this　kindly　and　consolatory　　spirit　is　never　absent。　　There　is　much　that　is　cheerful　and；　　after　a　sedate；　fireside　fashion；　hopeful。　　No　one　will　be　　discouraged　by　reading　the　book；　but　the　ground　of　all　this　　hopefulness　and　cheerfulness　remains　to　the　end　somewhat　　vague。　　It　does　not　seem　to　arise　from　any　practical　belief　　in　the　future　either　of　the　individual　or　the　race；　but　　rather　from　the　profound　personal　contentment　of　the　writer。　　　This　is；　I　suppose；　all　we　must　look　for　in　the　case。　　It　is　　as　much　as　we　can　expect；　if　the　fabulist　shall　prove　a　　shrewd　and　cheerful　fellow…wayfarer；　one　with　whom　the　world　　does　not　seem　to　have　gone　much　amiss；　but　who　has　yet　　laughingly　learned　something　of　its　evil。　　It　will　depend　　much；　of　course；　upon　our　own　character　and　circumstances；　　whether　the　encounter　will　be　agreeable　and　bracing　to　the　　spirits；　or　offend　us　as　an　ill…timed　mockery。　　But　where；　as　　here；　there　is　a　little　tincture　of　bitterness　along　with　the　　good…nature；　where　it　is　plainly　not　the　humour　of　a　man　　cheerfully　ignorant；　but　of　one　who　looks　on；　tolerant　and　　superior　and　smilingly　attentive；　upon　the　good　and　bad　of　　our　existence；　it　will　go　hardly　if　we　do　not　catch　some　　reflection　of　the　same　spirit　to　help　us　on　our　way。　　There　　is　here　no　impertinent　and　lying　proclamation　of　peace　…　none　　of　the　cheap　optimism　of　the　well…to…do；　what　we　find　here　is　　a　view　of　life　that　would　be　even　grievous；　were　it　not　　enlivened　with　this　abiding　cheerfulness；　and　ever　and　anon　　redeemed　by　a　stroke　of　pathos。
  It　is　natural　enough；　I　suppose；　that　we　should　find　wanting　　in　this　book　some　of　the　intenser　qualities　of　the　author's　　work；　and　their　absence　is　made　up　for　by　much　happy　　description　after　a　quieter　fashion。　　The　burst　of　jubilation　　over　the　departure　of　the　snow；　which　forms　the　prelude　to　　'The　Thistle；'　is　full　of　spirit　and　of　pleasant　images。　　The　　speech　of　the　forest　in　'Sans　Souci'　is　inspired　by　a　　beautiful　sentiment　for　nature　of　the　modern　sort；　and　　pleases　us　more；　I　think；　as　poetry　should　please　us；　than　　anything　in　CHRONICLES　AND　CHARACTERS。　　There　are　some　　admirable　felicities　of　expression　here　and　there；　as　that　of　　the　hill；　whose　summit
  'Did　print　The　azure　air　with　pines。'
  Moreover；　I　do　not　recollect　in　the　author's　former　work　any　　symptom　of　that　sympathetic　treatment　of　still　life；　which　is　　noticeable　now　and　again　in　the　fables；　and　perhaps　most　　noticeably；　when　he　sketches　the　burned　letters　as　they　hover　　along　the　gusty　flue；　'Thin；　sable　veils；　wherein　a　restless　　spark　Yet　trembled。'　　But　the　description　is　at　its　best　when　　the　subjects　are　unpleasant；　or　even　grisly。　　There　are　a　few　　capital　lines　in　this　key　on　the　last　spasm　of　the　battle　　before　alluded　to。　　Surely　nothing　could　be　better；　in　its　　own　way；　than　the　fish　in　'The　Last　Cruise　of　the　Arrogant；'　　'the　shadowy；　side…faced；　silent　things；'　that　come　butting　　and　staring　with　lidless　eyes　at　the　sunken　steam…engine。　　　And　although；　in　yet　another；　we　are　told；　pleasantly　enough；　　how　the　water　went　down　into　the　valleys；　where　it　set　itself　　gaily　to　saw　wood；　and　on　into　the　plains；　where　it　would　　soberly　carry　grain　to　town；　yet　the　real　strength　of　the　　fable　is　when　it　dealt　with　the　shut　pool　in　which　certain　　unfortunate　raindrops　are　imprisoned　among　slugs　and　snails；　　and　in　the　company　of　an　old　toad。　　The　sodden　contentment　of　　the　fallen　acorn　is　strangely　significant；　and　it　is　　astonishing　how　unpleasantly　we　are　startled　by　the　　appearance　of　her　horrible　lover；　the　maggot。
  And　now　for　a　last　word；　about　the　style。　　This　is　not　easy　　to　criticise。　　It　is　impossible　to　deny　to　it　rapidity；　　spirit；　and　a　full　sound；　the　lines　are　never　lame；　and　the　　sense　is　carried　forward　with　an　uninterrupted；　impetuous　　rush。　　But　it　is　not　equal。　　After　passages　of　really　　admirable　versification；　the　author　falls　back　upon　a　sort　of　　loose；　cavalry　manner；　not　unlike　the　style　of　some　of　Mr。　　Browning's　minor　pieces；　and　almost　inseparable　from　　wordiness；　and　an　easy　acceptation　of　somewhat　cheap　finish。　　　There　is　nothing　here　of　that　compression　which　is　the　note　　of　a　really　sovereign　style。　　It　is　unfair；　perhaps；　to　set　a　　not　remarkable　passage　from　Lord　Lytton　side　by　side　with　one　　of　the　signal　masterpieces　of　another；　and　a　very　perfect　　poet；　and　yet　it　is　interesting；　when　we　see　how　the　　portraiture　of　a　dog；　detailed　through　thirty　odd　lines；　is　　frittered　down　and　finally　almost　lost　in　the　mere　laxity　of　　the　style；　to　compare　it　with　the　clear；　simple；　vigorous　　delineation　that　Burns；　in　four　couplets；　has　given　us　of　the　　ploughman's　collie。　　It　is　interesting；　at　first；　and　then　it　　becomes　a　little　irritating；　for　when　we　think　of　other　　passages　so　much　more　finished　and　adroit；　we　cannot　help　　feeling；　that　with　a　little　more　ardour　after　perfection　of　　form；　criticism　would　have　found　nothing　left　for　her　to　　censure。　　A　similar　mark　of　precipitate　work　is　the　number　of　　adjectives　tumultuously　heaped　together；　sometimes　to　help　　out　the　sense；　and　sometimes　（as　one　cannot　but　suspect）　to　　help　out　the　sound　of　the　verses。　　I　do　not　believe；　for　　instance；　that　Lord　Lytton　himself　would　defend　the　lines　in　　which　we　are　told　how　Laocoon　'Revealed　to　Roman　crowds；　now　　CHRISTIAN　grown；　That　PAGAN　anguish　which；　in　PARIAN　stone；　　The　RHODIAN　artist；'　and　so　on。　　It　is　not　only　that　this　is　　bad　in　itself；　but　that　it　is　unworthy　of　the　company　in　　which　it　is　found；　that　such　verses　should　not　have　appeared　　with　the　name　of　a　good　versifier　like　Lord　Lytton。　　We　must　　take　exception；　also；　in　conclusion；　to　the　excess　of　　alliteration。　　Alliteration　is　so　liable　to　be　abused　that　we　　can　scarcely　be　too　sparing　of　it；　and　yet　it　is　a　trick　that　　seems　to　grow　upon　the　author　with　yea