midnight
Of all the despicable and miserable creatures I have ever known it is the poor starving devil , with latent genius , who attempts to pay court to a cad , snob , or drunken lord around the refuse of literary or sporting clubs in midnight hours . William was always very kind to these threadbare wanderers , and although they often gave him pen prods behind his back , he never betrayed any recognition of their envious stings , but like the lion in his jungle , brushed these busy bees away by the underbrush of his philosophy . He mildly rebuked their pretense , but relieved their immediate wants , impressing upon them the study of Nature and not the blandishments of art , having the appearance of Oriental porcelain or Phoenician glass , when it was really crude crockery painted to deceive the sight and auctioned off to the unwary purchaser as genuine material . How many authors , artists and actors of to-day follow in the path of their London ancestors who blow , and brag , and strut in midnight clubs and taverns to the pity and disgust of their table tooters . Speaking one evening at the Red Lion , in the rooms of Florio , I asked William how it was that his plays were so successful , while those of other authors had almost been banished from the dramatic boards . He at once replied : _ I draw my plots from Nature 's law To sound the depths of human life , And through her realm I find no flaw In all her seeming , varied strife ; The good and bad are near allied ; With sweet and sour forever blent , While vice and virtue side by side Exist in every continent . The poison vine that climbs the tree , Is just as great in Nature 's plan As every mount and every sea Displayed below for little man .