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I have no earthly news； living entirely in my story； and only
coming out of it to play patience。 The Shelleys are gone； the
Taylors kinder than can be imagined。 The other day； Lady Taylor
drove over and called on me； she is a delightful old lady； and
great fun。 I mentioned a story about the Duchess of Wellington
which I had heard Sir Henry tell； and though he was very tired； he
looked it up and copied it out for me in his own hand。 … Your most
affectionate son；
ROBERT LOUIS STEVENSON。
Letter： TO C。 W。 STODDARD
SKERRYVORE； BOURNEMOUTH； FEB。 13TH； 1886。
MY DEAR STODDARD； … I am a dreadful character； but； you see； I have
at last taken pen in hand； how long I may hold it； God knows。 This
is already my sixth letter to…day； and I have many more waiting；
and my wrist gives me a jog on the subject of scrivener's cramp；
which is not encouraging。
I gather you were a little down in the jaw when you wrote your
last。 I am as usual pretty cheerful； but not very strong。 I stay
in the house all winter； which is base； but； as you continue to
see； the pen goes from time to time； though neither fast enough nor
constantly enough to please me。
My wife is at Bath with my father and mother； and the interval of
widowery explains my writing。 Another person writing for you when
you have done work is a great enemy to correspondence。 To…day I
feel out of health； and shan't work； and hence this so much overdue
reply。
I was re…reading some of your South Sea Idyls the other day： some
of the chapters are very good indeed； some pages as good as they
can be。
How does your class get along？ If you like to touch on OTTO； any
day in a by…hour； you may tell them … as the author's last dying
confession … that it is a strange example of the difficulty of
being ideal in an age of realism； that the unpleasant giddy…
mindedness； which spoils the book and often gives it a wanton air
of unreality and juggling with air…bells； comes from unsteadiness
of key； from the too great realism of some chapters and passages …
some of which I have now spotted； others I dare say I shall never
spot … which disprepares the imagination for the cast of the
remainder。
Any story can be made TRUE in its own key； any story can be made
FALSE by the choice of a wrong key of detail or style： Otto is
made to reel like a drunken … I was going to say man； but let us
substitute cipher … by the variations of the key。 Have you
observed that the famous problem of realism and idealism is one
purely of detail？ Have you seen my 'Note on Realism' in Cassell's
MAGAZINE OF ART； and 'Elements of Style' in the CONTEMPORARY； and
'Romance' and 'Humble Apology' in LONGMAN'S？ They are all in your
line of business； let me know what you have not seen and I'll send
'em。
I am glad I brought the old house up to you。 It was a pleasant old
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 g