His book was in a condition which called for all his energies, and he threw himself vigorously into it.

The first weeks were taken up with a long review of Victor Hugo's prose and poetry, with a view to a final critical result.

It seemed to him that there was stuff in the great Frenchman to suit all weathers and all skies.

There were sombre, wind-swept days, when the stretches of brown ling not yet in flower, the hurrying clouds, and the bending trees, were in harmony with all the fierce tempestuous side of the great Romantic.

There were others when the homely, tender, domestic aspect of the country formed a sort of framework and accompaniment to the simpler patriarchal elements in the books which Kendal had about him.