thrashes Lord Steyne, or as finely romantic as
Henry Esmond's breaking of his sword before
the prince. But nowhere else has Thackeray
raised himself to so high a pitch of tragic terror
as in the account of the death of the devoted
princess struggling vainly against her inevitable,
inexorable doom.

With all these manifold merits, why is ' Barry
Lyndon' neglected? It is ignored not merely by
the broad public, which perhaps resents having
a villain palmed on it for a hero, but also by
Thackeray's friendliest critics. Trollope praises
it briefly, but with inadequate appreciation. Mr.
Andrew Lang casually calls it a masterpiece, and
says no more. Mr. Frederic Harrison says no-
thing at all. And Bagehot had said nothing,
either; but one remark of Bagehot's may partly
explain the matrimonial career of both Henry
Esmond and Barry Lyndon: "Women much re-
spect real virtue; they much admire strong and
successful immorality."

( 1897)

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