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spot; and I remember you there; though still more dearly in your 

own strange den upon a hill in San Francisco; and one of the most 

San Francisco…y parts of San Francisco。



Good…bye; my dear fellow; and believe me your friend;



ROBERT LOUIS STEVENSON。







Letter:  TO J。 A。 SYMONDS







SKERRYVORE; BOURNEMOUTH 'SPRING 1886'。



MY DEAR SYMONDS; … If we have lost touch; it is (I think) only in a 

material sense; a question of letters; not hearts。  You will find a 

warm welcome at Skerryvore from both the lightkeepers; and; indeed; 

we never tell ourselves one of our financial fairy tales; but a run 

to Davos is a prime feature。  I am not changeable in friendship; 

and I think I can promise you you have a pair of trusty well…

wishers and friends in Bournemouth:  whether they write or not is 

but a small thing; the flag may not be waved; but it is there。



Jekyll is a dreadful thing; I own; but the only thing I feel 

dreadful about is that damned old business of the war in the 

members。  This time it came out; I hope it will stay in; in future。



Raskolnikoff is easily the greatest book I have read in ten years; 

I am glad you took to it。  Many find it dull:  Henry James could 

not finish it:  all I can say is; it nearly finished me。  It was 

like having an illness。  James did not care for it because the 

character of Raskolnikoff was not objective; and at that I divined 

a great gulf between us; and; on further reflection; the existence 

of a certain impotence in many minds of to…day; which prevents them 

from living IN a book or a character; and keeps them standing afar 

off; spectators of a puppet show。  To such I suppose the book may 

seem empty in the centre; to the others it is a room; a house of 

life; into which they themselves enter; and are tortured and 

purified。  The Juge d'Instruction I thought a wonderful; weird; 

touching; ingenious creation:  the drunken father; and Sonia; and 

the student friend; and the uncircumscribed; protaplasmic humanity 

of Raskolnikoff; all upon a level that filled me with wonder:  the 

execution also; superb in places。  Another has been translated … 

HUMILIES ET OFFENSES。  It is even more incoherent than LE CRIME ET 

LE CHATIMENT; but breathes much of the same lovely goodness; and 

has passages of power。  Dostoieffsky is a devil of a swell; to be 

sure。  Have you heard that he became a stout; imperialist 

conservative?  It is interesting to know。  To something of that 

side; the balance leans with me also in view of the incoherency and 

incapacity of all。  The old boyish idea of the march on Paradise 

being now out of season; and all plans and ideas that I hear 

debated being built on a superb indifference to the first 

principles of human character; a helpless desire to acquiesce in 

anything of which I know the worst assails me。  Fundamental errors 

in human nature of two sorts stand on the skyline of all this modem 

world of aspirations。  First; that it is happiness that men want; 

and second; that happiness consists of anything but an internal 

harmony。  Men do not want; and I do not think they would accept; 

happiness; what they live for is rivalry; effort; success … the 

elements our friends wish to eliminate。  And; on the other hand; 

happiness is a question of morality … or of immorality; there is no 

difference … and conviction。  Gordon was happy in Khartoum; in his 

worst hours of danger and fatigue; Marat was happy; I suppose; in 

his ugliest frenzy; Marcus Aurelius was happy in the detested camp; 

Pepys was pretty happy; and I am pretty happy on the whole; because 

we both somewhat crowingly accepted a VIA MEDIA; both liked to 

attend to our affairs; and both had some success in managing the 

same。  It is quite an open question whether Pepys and I ought to be 

happy; on the other hand; there is no doubt that Marat had better 

be unhappy。  He was right (if he said it) that he was LA MISERE 

HUMAINE; cureless misery … unless perhaps by the gallows。  Death is 

a great and gentle solvent; it has never had justice done it; no; 

not by Whitman。  As for those crockery chimney…piece ornaments; the 

bourgeois (QUORUM PARS); and their cowardly dislike of dying and 

killing; it is merely one symptom of a thousand how utterly they 

have got out of touch of life。  Their dislike of capital punishment 

and their treatment of their domestic servants are for me the two 

flaunting emblems of their hollowness。



God knows where I am driving to。  But here comes my lunch。



Which interruption; happily for you; seems to have stayed the 

issue。  I have now nothing to say; that had formerly such a 

pressure of twaddle。  Pray don't fail to come this summer。  It will 

be a great disappointment; now it has been spoken of; if you do。 … 

Yours ever;



ROBERT LOUIS STEVENSON







Letter:  TO W。 H。 LOW







'SKERRYVORE; BOURNEMOUTH; MARCH 1886。'



MY DEAR LOW; … This is the most enchanting picture。  Now understand 

my state:  I am really an invalid; but of a mysterious order。  I 

might be a MALADE IMAGINAIRE; but for one too tangible symptom; my 

tendency to bleed from the lungs。  If we could go; (1ST)  We must 

have money enough to travel with LEISURE AND COMFORT … especially 

the first。  (2ND)  You must be prepared for a comrade who would go 

to bed some part of every day and often stay silent (3RD)  You 

would have to play the part of a thoughtful courier; sparing me 

fatigue; looking out that my bed was warmed; etc。 (4TH)  If you are 

very nervous; you must recollect a bad haemorrhage is always on the 

cards; with its concomitants of anxiety and horror for those who 

are beside me。



Do you blench?  If so; let us say no more about it。



If you are still unafraid; and the money were forthcoming; I 

believe the trip might do me good; and I feel sure that; working 

together; we might produce a fine book。  The Rhone is the river of 

Angels。  I adore it:  have adored it since I was twelve; and first 

saw it from the train。



Lastly; it would depend on how I keep from now on。  I have stood 

the winter hitherto with some credit; but the dreadful weather 

still continues; and I cannot holloa till I am through the wood。



Subject to these numerous and gloomy provisos; I embrace the 

prospect with glorious feelings。



I write this from bed; snow pouring without; and no circumstance of 

pleasure except your letter。  That; however; counts for much。  I am 

glad you liked the doggerel:  I have already had a liberal cheque; 

over which I licked my fingers with a sound conscience。  I had not 

meant to make money by these stumbling feet; but if it comes; it is 

only too welcome in my handsome but impecunious house。



Let me know soon what is to be expected … as far as it does not 

hang by that inconstant quantity; my want of health。  Remember me 

to Madam with the best thanks and wishes; and believe me your 

friend;



ROBERT LOUIS STEVENSON。







Letter:  TO MRS。 FLEEMING JENKIN







'SKERRYVORE; BOURNEMOUTH; APRIL 1886。'



MY DEAR MRS。 JENKIN; … I try to tell myself it is good nature; but 

I know it is vanity that makes me write。



I have drafted the first part of Chapter VI。; Fleeming and his 

friends; his influence on me; his views on religion and literature; 

his part at the Savile; it should boil down to about ten pages; and 

I really do think it admirably good。  It has so much evoked 

Fleeming for myself that I found my conscience stirred just as it 

used to be after a serious talk with him:  surely that means it is 

good?  I had to write and tell you; being alone。



I have excellent news of Fanny; who is much better for the change。  

My father is still very yellow; and very old; and very weak; but 

yesterday he seemed happier; and smiled; and followed what was 

said; even laughed; I think。  When he came away; he said to me; 

'Take care of yourself; my dearie;' whic

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