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it's a sunny day； I would like it to be a Sunday； but that's not
possible in the premises； and stand on the right…hand bank just
where the road goes down into the water； and shut your eyes； and if
I don't appear to you！ well； it can't be helped； and will be
extremely funny。
I have no concern here but to work and to keep an eye on this
distracted people。 I live just now wholly alone in an upper room
of my house； because the whole family are down with influenza； bar
my wife and myself。 I get my horse up sometimes in the afternoon
and have a ride in the woods； and I sit here and smoke and write；
and rewrite； and destroy； and rage at my own impotence； from six in
the morning till eight at night； with trifling and not always
agreeable intervals for meals。
I am sure you chose wisely to keep your country charge。 There a
minister can be something； not in a town。 In a town； the most of
them are empty houses … and public speakers。 Why should you
suppose your book will be slated because you have no friends？ A
new writer； if he is any good； will be acclaimed generally with
more noise than he deserves。 But by this time you will know for
certain。 … I am； yours sincerely；
ROBERT LOUIS STEVENSON。
P。S。 … Be it known to this fluent generation that I R。 L。 S。； in
the forty…third of my age and the twentieth of my professional
life； wrote twenty…four pages in twenty…one days； working from six
to eleven； and again in the afternoon from two to four or so；
without fail or interruption。 Such are the gifts the gods have
endowed us withal： such was the facility of this prolific writer！
R。 L。 S。
Letter： TO AUGUSTUS ST。 GAUDENS
VAILIMA； SAMOA； MAY 29TH； 1893
MY DEAR GOD…LIKE SCULPTOR； … I wish in the most delicate manner in
the world to insinuate a few commissions：…
No。 1。 Is for a couple of copies of my medallion； as gilt…edged and
high…toned as it is possible to make them。 One is for our house
here； and should be addressed as above。 The other is for my friend
Sidney Colvin； and should be addressed … Sidney Colvin； Esq。；
Keeper of the Print Room； British Museum； London。
No。 2。 This is a rather large order； and demands some explanation。
Our house is lined with varnished wood of a dark ruddy colour； very
beautiful to see； at the same time； it calls very much for gold；
there is a limit to picture frames； and really you know there has
to be a limit to the pictures you put inside of them。 Accordingly；
we have had an idea of a certain kind of decoration； which； I
think； you might help us to make practical。 What we want is an
alphabet of gilt letters （very much such as people play with）； and
all mounted on spikes like drawing…pins； say two spikes to each
letter； one at top； and one at bottom。 Say that they were this
height；
I
I
I
and that you chose a model of some really exquisitely fine； clear
type from some Roman monument； and that they were made either of
metal or some composition gilt … the point is； could not you； in
your land of wooden houses； get a manufacturer to take the idea and
manufacture them at a venture； so that I could get two or three
hundred pieces or so at a moderate figure？ You see； suppose you
entertain an honoured guest； when he goes he leaves his name in
gilt letters on your walls； an infinity of fun and decoration can
be got out of hospitable and festive mottoes； and the doors of
every room can be beautified by the legend of their names。 I
really think there is something in the idea； and you might be able
to push it with the brutal and licentious manufacturer； using my
name if necessary； though I should think the name of the god…like
sculptor would be more germane。 In case you should get it started；
I should tell you that we should require commas in order to write
the Samoan language； which is full of words written thus： la'u；
ti'e ti'e。 As the Samoan language uses but a very small proportion
of the consonants； we should require a double or treble stock of
all vowels and of F； G； L； U； N； P； S； T； and V。
The other day in Sydney； I think you might be interested to hear； I
was sculpt a second time by a man called …； as well as I can
remember and read。 I mustn't criticise a present； and he had very
little time to do it in。 It is thought by my family to be an
excellent likeness of Mark Twain。 This poor fellow； by the by； met
with the devil of an accident。 A model of a statue which he had
just finished with a desperate effort was smashed to smithereens on
its way to exhibition。
Please be sure and let me know if anything is likely to come of
this letter business； and the exact cost of each letter； so that I
may count the cost before ordering。 … Yours sincerely；
ROBERT LOUIS STEVENSON。
Letter： TO EDMUND GOSSE
JUNE 10TH； 1893。
MY DEAR GOSSE； … My mother tells me you never received the very
long and careful letter that I sent you more than a year ago； or is
it two years？
I was indeed so much surprised at your silence that I wrote to
Henry James and begged him to inquire if you had received it； his
reply was an （if possible） higher power of the same silence；
whereupon I bowed my head and acquiesced。 But there is no doubt
the letter was written and sent； and I am sorry it was lost； for it
contained； among other things； an irrecoverable criticism of your
father's LIFE； with a number of suggestions for another edition；
which struck me at the time as excellent。
Well； suppose we call that cried off； and begin as before？ It is
fortunate indeed that we can do so； being both for a while longer
in the day。 But； alas！ when I see 'works of the late J。 A。 S。；' I
can see no help and no reconciliation possible。 I wrote him a
letter； I think； three years ago； heard in some roundabout way that
he had received it； waited in vain for an answer （which had
probably miscarried）； and in a humour between frowns and smiles
wrote to him no more。 And now the strange； poignant； pathetic；
brilliant creature is gone into the night； and the voice is silent
that uttered so much excellent discourse； and I am sorry that I did
not write to him again。 Yet I am glad for him； light lie the turf！
The SATURDAY is the only obituary I have seen； and I thought it
very good upon the whole。 I should be half tempted to write an IN
MEMORIAM； but I am submerged with other work。 Are you going to do
it？ I very much admire your efforts that way； you are our only
academician。
So you have tried fiction？ I will tell you the truth： when I saw
it announced； I was so sure you would send it to me； that I did not
order it！ But the order goes this mail； and I will give you news
of it。 Yes； honestly； fiction is very difficult； it is a terrible
strain to CARRY your characters all that time。 And the difficulty
of according the narrative and the dialogue （in a work in the third
person） is extreme。 That is one reason out of half a dozen why I
so often prefer the first。 It is much in my mind just now； because
of my last work； just off the stocks three days ago； THE EBB TIDE：
a dreadful； grimy business in the third person； where the strain
between a vilely realistic dialogue and a narrative style pitched
about （in phrase） 'four notes higher' than it should have been； has
sown my head with grey hairs； or I believe so … if my head escaped；
my heart has them。
The truth is； I have a little lost my way； and stand bemused at the
cross…roads。 A subject？ Ay； I have dozens； I have at least four
novels begun； they are none good enough； and the mill waits； and
I'll have to take second best。 THE EBB TIDE I make the world a
present of； I expect； and； I suppose； deserve to be torn to pieces；
but there was all that good work lying useles