P.P.S. - Your picture came; and let me thank you for it very much.
I am so hunted I had near forgotten. I find it very graceful; and I mean to have it framed.
Letter: TO THOMAS STEVENSON
BONALLIE TOWERS, BOURNEMOUTH, NOVEMBER 1884.
MY DEAR FATHER, - I have no hesitation in recommending you to let your name go up; please yourself about an address; though I think, if we could meet, we could arrange something suitable. What you propose would be well enough in a way, but so modest as to suggest a whine. From that point of view it would be better to change a little; but this, whether we meet or not, we must discuss. Tait, Chrystal, the Royal Society, and I, all think you amply deserve this honour and far more; it is not the True Blue to call this serious compliment a "trial"; you should be glad of this recognition. As for resigning, that is easy enough if found necessary; but to refuse would be husky and unsatisfactory. SIC SUBS.
R. L. S.
My cold is still very heavy; but I carry it well. f.a.n.n.y is very very much out of sorts, princ.i.p.ally through perpetual misery with me. I fear I have been a little in the dumps, which, AS YOU KNOW, SIR, is a very great sin. I must try to be more cheerful; but my cough is so severe that I have sometimes most exhausting nights and very peevish wakenings. However, this shall be remedied, and last night I was distinctly better than the night before. There is, my dear Mr. Stevenson (so I moralise blandly as we sit together on the devil"s garden-wall), no more abominable sin than this gloom, this plaguey peevishness; why (say I) what matters it if we be a little uncomfortable - that is no reason for mangling our unhappy wives.
And then I turn and GIRN on the unfortunate Ca.s.sandra. - Your fellow culprit,
R. L. S.
Letter: TO W. E. HENLEY
WENSLEYDALE, BOURNEMOUTH, NOVEMBER 1884.
DEAR HENLEY, - We are all to pieces in health, and heavily handicapped with Arabs. I have a dreadful cough, whose attacks leave me AETAT. 90. I never let up on the Arabs, all the same, and rarely get less than eight pages out of hand, though hardly able to come downstairs for twittering knees.
I shall put in -"s letter. He says so little of his circ.u.mstances that I am in an impossibility to give him advice more specific than a copybook. Give him my love, however, and tell him it is the mark of the parochial gentleman who has never travelled to find all wrong in a foreign land. Let him hold on, and he will find one country as good as another; and in the meanwhile let him resist the fatal British tendency to communicate his dissatisfaction with a country to its inhabitants. "Tis a good idea, but it somehow fails to please. In a fortnight, if I can keep my spirit in the box at all, I should be nearly through this Arabian desert; so can tackle something fresh. - Yours ever,
R. L. S.
Letter: TO THOMAS STEVENSON
BONALLIE TOWERS, BRANKSOME PARK, BOURNEMOUTH (THE THREE B"S) [NOVEMBER 5, 1884].
MY DEAR FATHER, - Allow me to say, in a strictly Pickwickian sense, that you are a silly fellow. I am pained indeed, but how should I be offended? I think you exaggerate; I cannot forget that you had the same impression of the DEACON; and yet, when you saw it played, were less revolted than you looked for; and I will still hope that the ADMIRAL also is not so bad as you suppose. There is one point, however, where I differ from you very frankly. Religion is in the world; I do not think you are the man to deny the importance of its role; and I have long decided not to leave it on one side in art.
The opposition of the Admiral and Mr. Pew is not, to my eyes, either horrible or irreverent; but it may be, and it probably is, very ill done: what then? This is a failure; better luck next time; more power to the elbow, more discretion, more wisdom in the design, and the old defeat becomes the scene of the new victory.
Concern yourself about no failure; they do not cost lives, as in engineering; they are the PIERRES PERDUES of successes. Fame is (truly) a vapour; do not think of it; if the writer means well and tries hard, no failure will injure him, whether with G.o.d or man.
I wish I could hear a brighter account of yourself; but I am inclined to acquit the ADMIRAL of having a share in the responsibility. My very heavy cold is, I hope, drawing off; and the change to this charming house in the forest will, I hope, complete my re-establishment. - With love to all, believe me, your ever affectionate,
ROBERT LOUIS STEVENSON.
Letter: TO CHARLES BAXTER
BONALLIE TOWERS, BRANKSOME PARK, BOURNEMOUTH, NOVEMBER 11, [1884].
MY DEAR CHARLES, - I am in my new house, thus proudly styled, as you perceive; but the deevil a tower ava" can be perceived (except out of window); this is not as it should be; one might have hoped, at least, a turret. We are all vilely unwell. I put in the dark watches imitating a donkey with some success, but little pleasure; and in the afternoon I indulge in a smart fever, accompanied by aches and shivers. There is thus little monotony to be deplored.
I at least am a REGULAR invalid; I would scorn to bray in the afternoon; I would indignantly refuse the proposal to fever in the night. What is bred in the bone will come out, sir, in the flesh; and the same spirit that prompted me to date my letter regulates the hour and character of my attacks. - I am, sir, yours,
THOMSON.
Letter: TO CHARLES BAXTER
POSTMARK, BOURNEMOUTH, 13TH NOVEMBER 1884.
MY DEAR THOMSON, - It"s a maist remarkable fac", but nae shuner had I written yon braggin", blawin" letter aboot ma business habits, when bang! that very day, ma hoast begude in the aifternune. It is really remaurkable; it"s providenshle, I believe. The ink wasnae fair dry, the words werenae weel ooten ma mouth, when bang, I got the lee. The mair ye think o"t, Thomson, the less ye"ll like the looks o"t. Proavidence (I"m no" sayin") is all verra weel IN ITS PLACE; but if Proavidence has nae mainners, wha"s to learn"t?
Proavidence is a fine thing, but hoo would you like Proavidence to keep your till for ye? The richt place for Proavidence is in the kirk; it has naething to do wi" private correspondence between twa gentlemen, nor freendly cracks, nor a wee bit word of sculduddery ahint the door, nor, in sh.o.a.rt, wi" ony HOLE-AND-CORNER WARK, what I would call. I"m pairfec"ly willin" to meet in wi" Proavidence, I"ll be prood to meet in wi" him, when my time"s come and I cannae dae nae better; but if he"s to come skinking aboot my stair-fit, d.a.m.ned, I micht as weel be deid for a" the comfort I"ll can get in life. Cannae he no be made to understand that it"s beneath him?
Gosh, if I was in his business, I wouldnae steir my heid for a plain, auld ex-elder that, tak him the way he taks himsel," "s just aboot as honest as he can weel afford, an" but for a wheen auld scandals, near forgotten noo, is a pairfec"ly respectable and thoroughly decent man. Or if I fashed wi" him ava", it wad be kind o" handsome like; a pun"-note under his stair door, or a bottle o"
auld, blended malt to his bit marnin", as a teshtymonial like yon ye ken sae weel aboot, but mair successfu".
Dear Thomson, have I ony money? If I have, SEND IT, for the loard"s sake.
JOHNSON.
Letter: TO MISS FERRIER
BONALLIE TOWERS, BOURNEMOUTH, NOVEMBER 12, 1884.
MY DEAR COGGIE, - Many thanks for the two photos which now decorate my room. I was particularly glad to have the Bell Rock. I wonder if you saw me plunge, lance in rest, into a controversy thereanent?
It was a very one-sided affair. I slept upon the field of battle, paraded, sang Te Deum, and came home after a review rather than a campaign.
Please tell Campbell I got his letter. The Wild Woman of the West has been much amiss and complaining sorely. I hope nothing more serious is wrong with her than just my ill-health, and consequent anxiety and labour; but the deuce of it is, that the cause continues. I am about knocked out of time now: a miserable, snuffling, shivering, fever-stricken, nightmare-ridden, knee- jottering, hoast-hoast-hoasting shadow and remains of man. But we"ll no gie ower jist yet a bittie. We"ve seen waur; and dod, mem, it"s my belief that we"ll see better. I dinna ken "at I"ve muckle mair to say to ye, or, indeed, onything; but jist here"s guid-fallowship, guid health, and the wale o" guid fortune to your bonny sel"; and my respecs to the Perfessor and his wife, and the Prinshiple, an" the Bell Rock, an" ony ither public chara"ters that I"m acquaunt wi".
R. L. S.
Letter: TO EDMUND GOSSE