Hyde was more of a gentleman than
the unctuous Dr. Jekyll, with his "bedside manner."
So here, not to speak of some admirable short stories like "Thrawn
Janet," is a brief catalogue--little more--of Mr. Stevenson's
literary baggage. It is all good, though variously good; yet the
wise world asks for the masterpiece. It is said that Mr. Stevenson
has not ventured on the delicate and dangerous ground of the novel,
because he has not written a modern love story. But who has? There
are love affairs in Dickens, but do we remember or care for them?
Is it the love affairs that we remember in Scott? Thackeray may
touch us with Clive's and Jack Belsize's misfortunes, with Esmond's
melancholy passion, and amuse us with Pen in so many toils, and
interest us in the little heroine of the "Shabby Genteel Story."
But it is not by virtue of those episodes that Thackeray is so
great. Love stories are best done by women, as in "Mr. Gilfil's
Love Story"; and, perhaps, in an ordinary way, by writers like
Trollope. One may defy critics to name a great English author in
fiction whose chief and distinguishing merit is in his pictures of
the passion of Love. Still, they all give Love his due stroke in
the battle, and perhaps Mr. Stevenson will do so some day. But I
confess that, if he ever excels himself, I do not expect it to be in
a love story.
Possibly it may be in a play. If he again attempt the drama, he has
this in his favour, that he will not deal in supernumeraries.
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