as _ultra vires_ or _nihil
ad rem_ on the critic's part. I myself have been accused rather of
limiting than of extending the province of the literary critic; yet I
think this question is, sometimes at least, in place. If so, it can
seldom be more in place than with Beyle, first because of the unusually
mperfect character of his actual published work; and secondly, because
of the still more unusual abundance of half-done work, or of fragments
of self-criticism, which what has been called the "Beyle resurrection"
of the close of the last century has furnished. Indeed the unfinished
and scarcely more than half-drafted novel of _Lamiel_ almost by itself
suggests the question and supplies the answer. That answer--except from
favourers of the grime-novel which, oddly enough, whether by coincidence
or common causation became so popular at about the time of this
"resurrection"--can hardly be favourable. _Lamiel_ is a very grubby
little book. The eponymous heroine is adopted as a child by a parish
beadle and his wife, who do not at all maltreat her, except by bringing
her up in ways of extreme propriety, which she detests, taking delight
in the histories of Mandrin, Cartouche and Co. At early maidenhood she
is pitched upon as _lectrice_, and in a way favourite, by the great lady
of the neighbourhood, the Duchess of Miossens; and in this position
first attracts the attention of a peculiarly diabolical little dwarf
doctor, who, bar the comic[142] element, reminds one rather of Quilp.
His designs are, however, baulked in a most Beylian manner; for Lamiel
(who, by a pleasing chance, was at first called "Amiel"--a delightfully
_other_ Amiel!) coolly bestows some money upon a peasant to "teach her
what love is," and literally asks the Gebirian question about the ocean,
"Is this all?" after receiving the lesson. Further, in the more and more
unfinished parts of the book, she levants for a time with the young
duke, quits him, becomes a professional hetaera in Paris, but never
takes any fancy to the business of her avocation till she meets an
all-conquering criminal, Valbayre.[143] The scenario tells us that,
Valbayre having been caught by justice, she sets fire to the Palace
thereof, and her own bones are discovered in the ashes.

This, though Beyle at least meant to season the misanthropy with irony
(he might be compared with Meredith for some slightly cryptic views of
"the Comic Spirit"), is rather poor stuff, and certainly shows no