me
somewhat late; but he has depths in him which he has not sounded yet,
and it is quite likely that when he sounds them he may astonish the
world rather considerably. Now, if we may interpret the last poem in
his book, he is turning towards prose. "I go," he says--

"I go to fly at higher game:
At prose as good as I can make it;
And though it brings nor gold nor fame,
I will not, while I live, forsake it."

It is no disparagement to his verse to rejoice over this resolve of
his. For a young man who begins with epic may end with good epic; but
a young man who begins with imitating Calverley will turn in time to
prose if he means to write in earnest. And J.K.S. may do well or ill,
but that he is to be watched has been evident since the days when he
edited the _Reflector_.[B]

FOOTNOTES:

[A] I am bound to admit that the only authority for this is
a note written into the text of Aubrey's _Lives_.

[B] The reader will refer to the date at the head of this paper:--

"Heu miserande puer! signa fata aspera rumpas,
Tu Marcellus eris.
* * * * *
Sed nox atra caput tristi circumvolat umbra."

ROBERT LOUIS STEVENSON

April 15, 1893. The "Island Nights' Entertainments."

I wish Mr. Stevenson had given this book another title. It covers but
two out of the three stories in the volume; and, even so, it has the
ill-luck to be completely spoilt by its predecessor, the _New Arabian
Nights_.

The _New Arabian Nights_ was in many respects a parody of the Eastern
book. It had, if we make a few necessary allowances for the difference
between East and West, the same, or very near the same, atmosphere of
gallant, extravagant, intoxicated romance. The characters had the same
adventurous irresponsibility, and exhibit the same irrelevancies and
futilities. The Young Man with the Cream Cakes might well have sprung
from the same brain as the facetious Barmecide, and young Scrymgeour
sits helpless before his destiny as sat that other young man while the
inexorable Barber sang the song and danced the dance of Zantout.
Indeed Destiny in these books resembles nothing so much as a Barber
with forefinger and thumb nipping his victims by the nose. It is as
omnipotent, as irrational, as humorous and almost as cruel in the
imitation as in the original. Of course I am not comparing these in
any thing but their general presentment of life, or holding up _The
Ra