Little Journeys to the Homes of the Great - Volume 13 Little Journeys to the Homes of Great Lovers

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LITTLE JOURNEYS TO THE HOMES OF THE GREAT, VOLUME 13

Little Journeys to the Homes of Great Lovers

by

ELBERT HUBBARD

Memorial Edition

New York

1916.




CONTENTS

  ROBERT LOUIS STEVENSON AND FANNY OSBOURNE
  JOSIAH AND SARAH WEDGWOOD
  WILLIAM GODWIN AND MARY WOLLSTONECRAFT
  DANTE AND BEATRICE
  JOHN STUART MILL AND HARRIET TAYLOR
  PARNELL AND KITTY O'SHEA
  PETRARCH AND LAURA
  DANTE GABRIEL ROSSETTI AND ELIZABETH ELEANOR SIDDAL
  BALZAC AND MADAME HANSKA
  FENELON AND MADAME GUYON
  FERDINAND LASSALLE AND HELENE VON DONNIGES
  LORD NELSON AND LADY HAMILTON




ROBERT LOUIS STEVENSON AND FANNY OSBOURNE


    We thank Thee for this place in which we dwell; for the love that
    unites us; for the peace accorded us this day; for the hope with
    which we expect the morrow; for the health, the work, the food, and
    the bright skies that make our lives delightful; for our friends in
    all parts of the earth, and our friendly helpers in this foreign
    isle. Give us courage and gaiety and the quiet mind. Spare to us our
    friends, soften to us our enemies. Bless us, if it may be, in all
    our innocent endeavors. If it may not, give us the strength to
    encounter that which is to come, that we be brave in peril, constant
    in tribulation, temperate in wrath, and in all changes of fortune,
    and down to the gates of death, loyal and loving one to another.

                                                --_Vailima Prayers_

[Illustration: ROBERT LOUIS STEVENSON]


There is a libel leveled at the Scotch and encouraged, I am very sorry
to say, by Chauncey Depew, when he told of approaching the docks in
Glasgow and seeing the people on shore convulsed with laughter, and was
told that their mirth was the result of one of his jokes told the year
before, the point just being perceived.

Bearing on the same line we have the legend that the adage, "He laughs
best who laughs last," was the invention of a Scotchman who was
endeavoring to explain away a popular failing of his countrymen.

An adage seems to be a statement the reverse of which is true--or not.
In all the realm of letters, where can be found anything more
delightfully whimsical and deliciously humorous than James Barrie's
"Peter Pan"? And as a writer of exquisite humor, as opposed to English
wit, that other Scotchman, Robert Louis Stevenson, stands supreme.

To Robert Louis life was altogether too important a matter to be taken
seriously. The quality of fine fooling shown in the creation of a
mythical character called "John Libbel" remained with Stevenson to the
end of his days.

Stevenson never knew the value of money, because he was not brought up
to earn money. Very early he was placed on a small allowance, which he
found could be augmented by maternal embezzlements and the kindly
co-operation of pawnbrokers.

Once on a trip from home with his cousin he found they lacked just five
shillings of the required amount to pay their fare. They boarded the
train and paid as far as they could. The train stopped at Crewe fifteen
minutes for lunch. Lunch is a superfluity if you haven't the money to
pay for it--but stealing a ride in Scotland is out of the question.
Robert Louis hastily took a pair of new trousers from his valise and ran
up the main street of the town anxiously looking for a pawnshop. There
at the end of the thoroughfare he saw the three glittering, welcome
balls. He entered, out of breath, threw down the trousers and asked for
five shillings. "What name?" asked the pawnbroker. "John Libbel," was
the reply, given without thought. "How do you spell it?" "Two b's!"

He got the five shillings and hastened back to the station, where his
cousin Bob was anxiously awaiting him. Robert Louis did not have to
explain that his little run up the street was a financial success--that
much was understood. But what pleased him most was that he had
discovered a new man, a very important man, John Libbel, the man who
made pawnbrokers possible, the universal client of the craft. "You mean
patient, not client," interposed Bob.

Then they invented the word libbelian, meaning one with pawnbroker
inclinations. Libbelattos meant the children of John Libbel, and so it
went.

The boys had an old font of type, and they busied themselves printing
cards for John Libbel, giving his name and supposed business and
address. These they gave out on the street, slipped under doors, or
placed mysteriously in the hands of fussy old gentlemen.

Finally the boys got to ringing doorbells and asking if John Libbel
lived within. They sought Libbel at hotels, stopped men on the street
and asked them if their name wasn't John Libbel, and when told no,
apologized profusely and declared the resemblance most remarkable.

They tied up packages of ashes or sawdust, very neatly labeled,
"Compliments of John Libbel," and dropped them on the street.