he hadn't even a competent acquaintance with his paltry
subject. Will you credit that he twice or thrice referred to Settle's
reply to "Absalom and Achitophel" by the title of "Absalom Transposed,"
when every schoolgirl knows that the thing was called "Achitophel
Transposed"! This was monstrous enough, but there was something still
more contemptible. He positively, I assure you, attributed the play of
"Epsom Wells" to Crowne! I should have presumed that every student of
even the most trivial primer of literature was aware that "Epsom Wells"
was written by Shadwell.... Now, if one were to take Shadwell for the
subject of a paper, one might very well show how unjustly his name has
fallen into contempt. It has often occurred to me to do this. "But
Shadwell never deviates into sense." The sneer, in my opinion, is
entirely unmerited. For my own part, I put Shadwell very high among the
dramatists of his time, and I think I could show that his absolute worth
is by no means inconsiderable. Shadwell has distinct vigour of dramatic
conception; his dialogue....'

And as he talked the man kept describing imaginary geometrical figures
with the end of his walking-stick; he very seldom raised his eyes
from the ground, and the stoop in his shoulders grew more and more
pronounced, until at a little distance one might have taken him for a
hunchback. At one point Jasper made a pause to speak of the pleasant
wooded prospect that lay before them; his companion regarded it
absently, and in a moment or two asked:

'Did you ever come across Cottle's poem on the Malvern Hills? No?

It contains a couple of the richest lines ever put into print:

It needs the evidence of close deduction
To know that I shall ever reach the top.

Perfectly serious poetry, mind you!'

He barked in laughter. Impossible to interest him in anything apart from
literature; yet one saw him to be a man of solid understanding, and
not without perception of humour. He had read vastly; his memory was a
literary cyclopaedia. His failings, obvious enough, were the results
of a strong and somewhat pedantic individuality ceaselessly at conflict
with unpropitious circumstances.

Towards the young man his demeanour varied between a shy cordiality and
a dignified reserve which was in danger of seeming pretentious. On the
homeward part of the walk he made a few discreet inquiries regarding
Milvain's literary achievements and prospects, and the frank
self-confidenc