But such pieces as those called _The End of the Play_ and _Vanitas Vanitatum_, which are didactic as well as pathetic, are not ballads in the common sense; nor are such songs as _The Mahogany Tree_, or the little collection called _Love Songs made Easy_.

The majority of the pieces are not ballads, but if they be good of the kind we should be ungrateful to quarrel much with the name.
How very good most of them are, I did not know till I re-read them for the purpose of writing this chapter.

There is a manifest falling off in some few,--which has come from that source of literary failure which is now so common.

If a man write a book or a poem because it is in him to write it,--the motive power being altogether in himself and coming from his desire to express himself,--he will write it well, presuming him to be capable of the effort.

But if he write his book or poem simply because a book or poem is required from him, let his capability be what it may, it is not unlikely that he will do it badly.