deepest strain of thought in Scotland, - a country far more
essentially different from England than many parts of
America; for, in a sense, the first of these men re-created
Scotland, and the second is its most essentially national
production. To treat fitly of Hugo and Villon would involve
yet wider knowledge, not only of a country foreign to the
author by race, history, and religion, but of the growth and
liberties of art. Of the two Americans, Whitman and Thoreau,
each is the type of something not so much realised as widely
sought after among the late generations of their countrymen;
and to see them clearly in a nice relation to the society
that brought them forth, an author would require a large
habit of life among modern Americans. As for Yoshida, I have
already disclaimed responsibility; it was but my hand that
held the pen.

In truth, these are but the readings of a literary vagrant.
One book led to another, one study to another. The first was
published with trepidation. Since no bones were broken, the
second was launched with greater confidence. So, by
insensible degrees, a young man of our generation acquires,
in his own eyes, a kind of roving judicial commission through
the ages; and, having once escaped the perils of the Freemans
and the Furnivalls, sets himself up to right the wrongs of
universal history and criticism. Now, it is one thing to
write with enjoyment on a subject while the story is hot in
your mind from recent reading, coloured with recent
prejudice; and it is quite another business to put these
writings coldly forth again in a bound volume. We are most
of us attached to our opinions; that is one of the "natural