helping to compile and correct educational works. He might, but for
the various conditions of reserve, hatred of towns, and the rest,
have been earning his leisure by work more brilliant and more
congenial to most men. But his theory of literature was so lofty
that he probably found the other, the harder, the less remunerative,
the less attractive work, more congenial to his tastes.

He describes, to Mrs. Murray, various notable visitors to St.
Andrews: Professor Butcher, who lectured on Lucian, and is `very
handsome,' Mr. Arthur Balfour, the Lord Rector, who is `rather
handsome,' and delights the listener by his eloquence; Mr.
Chamberlain, who pleases him too, though he finds Mr. Chamberlain
rather acrimonious in his political reflections. About Lucian, the
subject of Mr. Butcher's lecture, Murray says nothing. That
brilliant man of letters in general, the Alcibiades of literature,
the wittiest, and, rarely, the most tender, and, always, the most
graceful, was a model who does not seem to have attracted Murray.
Lucian amused, and amuses, and lived by amusing: the vein of
romance and poetry that was his he worked but rarely: perhaps the
Samosatene did not take himself too seriously, yet he lives through
the ages, an example, in many ways to be followed, of a man who
obviously delighted in all that he wrought. He was no model to
Murray, who only delighted in his moments of inspiration, and could
not make himself happy even in the trifles which are demanded from
the professional pen.

He did, at last, endeavour to ply that servile engine of which
Pendennis conceived so exalted an opinion. Certainly a false pride
did not stand in his way when, on May 5, 1889, he announced that he
was about to leave St. Andrews, and attempt to get work at proof-