Virginibus Puerisque, and Other PapersStevenson, Robert Louis
General
Virginibus Puerisque, and Other Papers
Stevenson, Robert Louis
Essays
One who goes touring on foot with a single volume in his knapsack reads
with circumspection, pausing often to reflect, and often laying the book
down to contemplate the landscape or the prints in the inn parlour; for
he fears to come to an end of his entertainment, and be left
companionless on the last stages of his journey. A young fellow recently
finished the works of Thomas Carlyle, winding up, if we remember aright,
with the ten note-books upon Frederick the Great. “What!” cried the
young fellow, in consternation, “is there no more Carlyle? Am I left to
the daily papers?” A more celebrated instance is that of Alexander, who
wept bitterly because he had no more worlds to subdue. And when Gibbon
had finished the _Decline and Fall_, he had only a few moments of joy;
and it was with a “sober melancholy” that he parted from his labours.
Happily we all shoot at the moon with ineffectual arrows; our hopes are
set on inaccessible El Dorado; we come to an end of nothing here below.
Interests are only plucked up to sow themselves again, like mustard. You
would think, when the child was born, there would be an end to trouble;
and yet it is only the beginning of fresh anxieties; and when you have
seen it through its teething and its education, and at last its marriage,
alas! it is only to have new fears, new quivering sensibilities, with
every day; and the health of your children’s children grows as touching a
concern as that of your own. Again, when you have married your wife, you
would think you were got upon a hilltop, and might begin to go downward
by an easy slope. But you have only ended courting to begin marriage.
Falling in love and winning love are often difficult tasks to overbearing
and rebellious spirits; but to keep in love is also a business of some
importance, to which both man and wife must bring kindness and goodwill.
The true love story commences at the altar, when there lies before the
married pair a most beautiful contest of wisdom and generosity, and a
life-long struggle towards an unattainable ideal. Unattainable? Ay,
surely unattainable, from the very fact that they are two instead of one.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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