Of Fears and Sorrows that infest the Soul
Scatters before him with his whirlwind Sword.'


Lastly, to bring to an end this imperfect review of the works of a
writer who has left none greater behind him, Stevenson excels at
what is perhaps the most delicate of literary tasks and the utmost
test, where it is successfully encountered, of nobility, - the
practice, namely, of self-revelation and self-delineation. To talk
much about oneself with detail, composure, and ease, with no shadow
of hypocrisy and no whiff or taint of indecent familiarity, no
puling and no posing, - the shores of the sea of literature are
strewn with the wrecks and forlorn properties of those who have
adventured on this dangerous attempt. But a criticism of Stevenson
is happy in this, that from the writer it can pass with perfect
trust and perfect fluency to the man. He shares with Goldsmith and
Montaigne, his own favourite, the happy privilege of making lovers
among his readers. 'To be the most beloved of English writers -
what a title that is for a man!' says Thackeray of Goldsmith. In
such matters, a dispute for pre-eminence in the captivation of
hearts would be unseemly; it is enough to say that Stevenson too
has his lovers among those who have accompanied him on his INLAND
VOYAGE, or through the fastnesses of the Cevennes in the wake of
Modestine. He is loved by those that never saw his face; and one
who has sealed that dizzy height of ambition may well be content,
without the impertinent assurance that, when the Japanese have
taken London and revised the contents of the British Museum, the
yellow scribes whom they shall set to produce a new edition of the
BIOGRAPHIE UNIVERSELLE will include in their entries the following
item: - 'STEVENSON, R. L. A PROLIFIC WRITER OF STORIES AMONG THE