men and maidens, some of them in little
more than night-gear, some with stable lanterns, and all offering
beds for sale."

The following is from an essay written by Stevenson while under the
influence of the author of Rab and his Friends.

"One such face I now remember; one such blank some half a dozen of
us labor to dissemble. In his youth he was a most beautiful person,
most serene and genial by disposition, full of racy words and quaint
thoughts. Laughter attended on his coming.... From this disaster
like a spent swimmer he came desperately ashore, bankrupt of money
and consideration; creeping to the family he had deserted; with
broken wing never more to rise. But in his face there was the light
of knowledge that was new to it. Of the wounds of his body he was
never healed; died of them gradually, with clear-eyed resignation.
Of his wounded pride we knew only by his silence."

The following is in the sprightly style of the eighteenth century:--

"Cockshot is a different article, but vastly entertaining, and has
been meat and drink to me for many a long evening. His manner is
dry, brisk, and pertinacious, and the choice of words not much. The
point about him is his extraordinary readiness and spirit. You can
propound nothing but he has either a theory about it ready made or
will have one instantly on the stocks, and proceed to lay its
timbers and launch it on the minute. 'Let me see,' he will say,
'give me a moment, I should have some theory for that.'"

But for serious matters this manner would never do, and accordingly we
find that, when the subject invites him, Stevenson falls into English as
early as the time of James I.

Let us imagine Bacon dedicating one of his smaller works to his
physicians:--

"There are men and classes of men that stand above the common herd:
the soldier, the sailor, and the shepherd not unfrequently; the
artist rarely; rarelier still the clergyman; the physician almost as
a rule.... I forget as many as I remember and I ask both to pardon
me, these for silence, those for inadequate speech."

After finishing off this dedication to his satisfaction, Stevenson turns
over the page and writes a NOTE in the language of two and one-half
centuries later. He is now the elegant _litterateur_ of the last
generation--one would say James Russell Lowell:--

"The human conscience has fled of late the troublesome domain of
conduct for what I