[Note 19:  Association is turned against itself.  It is seldom that Stevenson uses an expression that is not instantly transparently clear.  Exactly what does he mean by this phrase?]

[Note 20:  “As from an enemy.”  Alluding to the passage Stevenson has quoted above, from Wordsworth’s Prelude.]

[Note 21:  Our noisy years did indeed seem moments.  A favorite reflection of Stevenson’s, occurring in nearly all his serious essays.]

[Note 22:  Shelley speaks of the sea as “hungering for calm." This passage occurs in the poem Prometheus Unbound, Act III, end of Scene 2.

  “Behold the Nereids under the green sea—­
  Their wavering limbs borne on the wind like stream,
  Their white arms lifted o’er their streaming hair,
  With garlands pied and starry sea-flower crowns,—­
  Hastening to grace their mighty Sister’s joy. 
  It is the unpastured sea hungering for calm.”]

[Note 23:  Whin-pods. “Whin” is from the Welsh cwyn, meaning “weed.”  Whin is gorse or furze, and the sound Stevenson alludes to is frequently heard in Scotland.]

[Note 24:  “Mon coeur est un luth suspendu.”  These beautiful words are from the poet Beranger (1780-1857).  It is probable that Stevenson found them first not in the original, but in reading the tales of Poe, for the “two lines of French verse” that “haunted” Stevenson are quoted by Poe at the beginning of one of his most famous pieces, The Fall of the House of Usher, where, however, the third, and not the first person is used:—­

  “Son coeur est un luth suspendu;
  Sitot qu’on le touche il resonne.”]

[Note 25:  “Out of the strong came forth sweetness.”  Alluding to the riddle propounded by Samson.  See the book of Judges, Chapter XIV.]

II

AN APOLOGY FOR IDLERS

BOSWELL:  “We grow weary when idle.”

JOHNSON:  “That is, sir, because others being busy, we want company; but if we were idle, there would be no growing weary; we should all entertain one another."[1]

Just now, when every one is bound, under pain of a decree in absence convicting them of lese-respectability,[2] to enter on some lucrative profession, and labour therein with something not far short of enthusiasm, a cry from the opposite party who are content when they have enough, and like to look on and enjoy in the meanwhile, savours a little of bravado and gasconade.[3] And yet this should not be.  Idleness so called, which does not consist in doing nothing, but in doing a great deal not recognised in the dogmatic formularies of the ruling class, has as good a right to state its position as industry itself.  It is admitted that the presence of people who refuse to enter in the great handicap race for sixpenny pieces, is at once an insult and a disenchantment for those who