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grudge nothing； regret very little … and then only some little
corners of misconduct for which I deserve hanging； and must
infallibly be damned … and； take it all over； damnation and all；
would hardly change with any man of my time； unless perhaps it were
Gordon or our friend Chalmers： a man I admire for his virtues；
love for his faults； and envy for the really A1 life he has； with
everything heart … my heart； I mean … could wish。 It is curious to
think you will read this in the grey metropolis； go the first grey；
east…windy day into the Caledonian Station； if it looks at all as
it did of yore： I met Satan there。 And then go and stand by the
cross； and remember the other one … him that went down … my
brother； Robert Fergusson。 It is a pity you had not made me out；
and seen me as patriarch and planter。 I shall look forward to some
record of your time with Chalmers： you can't weary me of that
fellow； he is as big as a house and far bigger than any church；
where no man warms his hands。 Do you know anything of Thomson？ Of
A…； B…； C…； D…； E…； F…； at all？ As I write C。's name mustard rises
my nose； I have never forgiven that weak； amiable boy a little
trick he played me when I could ill afford it： I mean that
whenever I think of it； some of the old wrath kindles； not that I
would hurt the poor soul； if I got the world with it。 And Old X…？
Is he still afloat？ Harmless bark！ I gather you ain't married
yet； since your sister； to whom I ask to be remembered； goes with
you。 Did you see a silly tale； JOHN NICHOLSON'S PREDICAMENT； or
some such name； in which I made free with your home at Murrayfield？
There is precious little sense in it； but it might amuse。
Cassell's published it in a thing called YULE…TIDE years ago； and
nobody that ever I heard of read or has ever seen YULE…TIDE。 It is
addressed to a class we never met … readers of Cassell's series and
that class of conscientious chaff； and my tale was dull； though I
don't recall that it was conscientious。 Only； there's the house at
Murrayfield and a dead body in it。 Glad the BALLADS amused you。
They failed to entertain a coy public； at which I wondered； not
that I set much account by my verses； which are the verses of
Prosator； but I do know how to tell a yarn； and two of the yarns
are great。 RAHERO is for its length a perfect folk…tale： savage
and yet fine； full of tailforemost morality； ancient as the granite
rocks； if the historian； not to say the politician； could get that
yarn into his head； he would have learned some of his A B C。 But
the average man at home cannot understand antiquity； he is sunk
over the ears in Roman civilisation； and a tale like that of RAHERO
falls on his ears inarticulate。 The SPECTATOR said there was no
psychology in it； that interested me much： my grandmother （as I
used to call that able paper； and an able paper it is； and a fair
one） cannot so much as observe the existence of savage psychology
when it is put before it。 I am at bottom a psychologist and
ashamed of it； the tale seized me one…third because of its
picturesque features； two…thirds because of its astonishing
psychology； and the SPECTATOR says there's none。 I am going on
with a lot of island work； exulting in the knowledge of a new
world； 'a new created world' and new men； and I am sure my income
will DECLINE and FALL off； for the effort of comprehension is death
to the intelligent public； and sickness to the dull。
I do not know why I pester you with all this trash； above all as
you deserve nothing。 I give you my warm TALOFA （'my love to you；'
Samoan salutation）。 Write me again when the spirit moves you。 And
some day； if I still live； make out the trip again and let us hob…
a…nob with our grey pows on my verandah。 … Yours sincerely；
ROBERT LOUIS STEVENSON。
Letter： TO W。 CRAIBE ANGUS
VAILIMA； SAMOA； APRIL 1891。
DEAR MR。 ANGUS； … Surely I remember you！ It was W。 C。 Murray who
made us acquainted； and we had a pleasant crack。 I see your poet
is not yet dead。 I remember even our talk … or you would not think
of trusting that invaluable JOLLY BEGGARS to the treacherous posts；
and the perils of the sea； and the carelessness of authors。 I love
the idea； but I could not bear the risk。 However …
'Hale be your heart； hale be your fiddle … '
it was kindly thought upon。
My interest in Burns is； as you suppose； perennial。 I would I
could be present at the exhibition； with the purpose of which I
heartily sympathise； but the NANCY has not waited in vain for me； I
have followed my chest； the anchor is weighed long ago； I have said
my last farewell to the hills and the heather and the lynns： like
Leyden； I have gone into far lands to die； not stayed like Burns to
mingle in the end with Scottish soil。 I shall not even return like
Scott for the last scene。 Burns Exhibitions are all over。 'Tis a
far cry to Lochow from tropical Vailima。
'But still our hearts are true； our hearts are Highland；
And we in dreams behold the Hebrides。'
When your hand is in； will you remember our poor Edinburgh Robin？
Burns alone has been just to his promise； follow Burns； he knew
best； he knew whence he drew fire … from the poor； white…faced；
drunken； vicious boy that raved himself to death in the Edinburgh
madhouse。 Surely there is more to be gleaned about Fergusson； and
surely it is high time the task was set about。 I way tell you
（because your poet is not dead） something of how I feel： we are
three Robins who have touched the Scots lyre this last century。
Well； the one is the world's； he did it； he came off； he is for
ever； but I and the other … ah！ what bonds we have … born in the
same city； both sickly； both pestered； one nearly to madness； one
to the madhouse； with a damnatory creed； both seeing the stars and
the dawn； and wearing shoe…leather on the same ancient stones；
under the same pends； down the same closes； where our common
ancestors clashed in their armour； rusty or bright。 And the old
Robin； who was before Burns and the flood； died in his acute；
painful youth； and left the models of the great things that were to
come； and the new； who came after； outlived his greensickness； and
has faintly tried to parody the finished work。 If you will collect
the strays of Robin Fergusson； fish for material； collect any last
re…echoing of gossip； command me to do what you prefer … to write
the preface … to write the whole if you prefer： anything； so that
another monument （after Burns's） be set up to my unhappy
predecessor on the causey of Auld Reekie。 You will never know； nor
will any man； how deep this feeling is： I believe Fergusson lives
in me。 I do； but tell it not in Gath； every man has these fanciful
superstitions； coming； going； but yet enduring； only most men are
so wise （or the poet in them so dead） t