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Stevenson, Robert Louis, 1850-1894

"The Pocket R.L.S., being favourite passages from the works of Stevenson"


*
How unsubstantial is this projection of a man s existence,
which can lie in abeyance for centuries and then be brushed
up again and set forth for the consideration of posterity
by a few dips in an antiquary's ink-pot! This precarious
tenure of fame goes a long way to justify those (and they
are not few) who prefer cakes and cream in the immediate
present.
*
But I beard the voice of a woman singing some sad, old
endless ballad not far off. It seemed to be about love and
a BEL AMOUREUX, her handsome sweetheart; and I wished I
could have taken up the strain and answered her, as I went
on upon my invisible woodland way, weaving, like Pippa in
the poem, my own thoughts with hers. What could I have
told her? Little enough; and yet all the heart requires.
How the world gives and takes away, and brings sweethearts
near only to separate them again into distant and strange
lands; but to love is the great amulet which makes the
world a garden; and 'hope, which comes to all,' outwears
the accidents of life, and reaches with tremulous hand
beyond the grave and death. Easy to say: yea, but also, by
God's mercy, both easy and grateful to believe!
*
As a matter of fact, although few things are spoken of with
more fearful whisperings than this prospect of death, few
have less influence on conduct under healthy
circumstances.


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