's display in gesticulation. But, from a gentleman whose
corns when trodden on are probably as painful as his neighbours', we are
content with something less than a godlike indifference to the emotions
of humanity. Let us suppose, charitably, that this is no more than
a pretence, and that Mr. Moore is neither at heart so callous nor in
vanity so far removed from mere emotional interests as he would seem.

The most patient of investigators in strange regions will make slips
sometimes. Mr. Moore, for instance, investigating the racing stable,
treats us to a view of a horse whose legs are tightly bandaged from
his knees to his forelocks, and his vulgarest peasants and servants say
'that is he,' or 'if it be.' One characteristic of the common speech of
our country he has caught with accuracy, though it can scarcely be said
that it needed much observation to secure it. The very objectionable
word 'bloody,' as it is used by the vulgar, is Mr. Moore's 'standby'
in 'Esther Waters,' It is very likely that it takes a sort of daring to
introduce the word freely into a work of fiction, but the courage does
not seem very much more respectable than the word.

VIII.--MR. S. R. CROCKETT--IAN MACLAREN

When I undertook the writing of this series, Mr. S. R. Crockett, except
for his 'Mad Sir Uchtred of the Hills,' was unknown to me by actual
reading. My opinion of that story was not a high one. I thought it, and
on a second reading still think it, feebly pretentious. But for some
reason or another Mr. Crockett's name has been buzzed about in such
a prodigality of praise that it came natural to believe and hope that
later work from his pen had shown a quality which the first little
_brochure_ had not revealed, and that the world had found in him a
genuine addition to its regiment of literary workmen. The curiosity
with which a section of the newspaper press has been inspired as to
Mr. Crockett's personal whereabouts, as to his comings and goings, his
engagements for the future, and his prices 'per thousand words,' would
have seemed to indicate that in him we had discovered a person of
considerably more than the average height.

The result of a completer perusal of his writings is not merely
destructive of this hope. It is positively stunning and bewildering.
Mr. Crockett is not only not a great man, but a rather futile very small
one. The unblushing effrontery of those gentlemen of the press who
have set _him_ on a level with Sir