"Idyls of the King," and a hundred incom- 

 parable lyrics. 



No novelist since Scott has half com- 

 pared with him in universality of influence. 

 Here again a mighty man grew apace with 

 the man's art. Scott was not what we call 

 a line workman, but he was great, and in 

 love with workmanship ; he sacrificed him- 

 self on the altar of Hterature. No one can 

 read his life without regretting that mis- 

 fortune and a mighty sense of honor forced 

 him, in his later days, to do what we are 

 all doing without compulsion. He ground 

 out literature, and his life, for money. He 

 is the most illustrious example of the atttetir 

 d'argejit. But he is also the one Homeric 

 figure of modern times, and the most pa- 

 thetic of all time. 



Reading the letters of the late Robert 

 Louis Stevenson, edited by Mr. Sidney 

 Colvin, is like hearing a soft Southern sea 

 booming " Money, money, money!" while 

 the sky smiles and the winds smack of nard 

 and spice. Think of a writer with an in- 

 come of twenty-five thousand dollars a year 

 forever worried because he has not more! 

 169 



