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+*** START OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK 53165 ***
+
+[Illustration: Cover art]
+
+
+
+
+[Illustration: Robert Louis Stevenson]
+
+
+
+
+_Painting by W. Hatherell._
+
+ "Took down the folds of her hair--shook it
+ round her face and the pool repeated her
+ thus veiled."
+
+_Prince Otto._
+
+[Illustration: _Prince Otto_]
+
+
+
+
+ A DAY WITH
+ ROBERT LOUIS
+ STEVENSON
+
+
+ BY MAURICE CLARE
+
+
+
+ LONDON
+ HODDER & STOUGHTON
+ 1910
+
+
+
+
+ _In the same Series.
+ Dickens.
+ Thackeray._
+
+
+
+
+A DAY WITH STEVENSON.
+
+
+Supposing that in the month of April, 1886, you had arrived, a guest
+foreseen, at the pleasant ivy-muffled dwelling in Bournemouth, which
+had recently adopted the name of Skerryvore, and that you had been
+permitted to enter its doors--you might account yourself a somewhat
+favoured person. For the master of the house, "that rickety and
+cloistered spectre," as he termed himself, the "pallid brute who lived
+in Skerryvore like a weevil in a biscuit," might be invisible for the
+nonce--shut upstairs, forbidden even to speak for fear of inducing
+hemorrhage. Or again, you might yourself be afflicted with an obvious
+cold: in which case you would not be admitted into his presence, lest
+you left contagion of that cold.
+
+But if fate befriended you, you would chance upon the most remarkable
+personality, it might be, that you had yet encountered. A lean, long
+flat-chested man, gracefully emphatic of gesture--pacing up and down
+the room as he talked--burning with hectic energy--a man of rich brown
+tints in hair and eyes and skin: mutable, mirthful, brilliant--above
+all "vital," as he had described himself, "wholly vital with a buoyance
+of life" which had upborne him hitherto over the crest of most
+tumultuous distresses.
+
+Robert Louis Stevenson was now thirty-six years old: and ever since his
+sixth year, when, as his mother recorded in her diary, he dreamed that
+he "heard the noise of pens writing," his aim had been set unswervingly
+toward the one goal. Born of a strong and strenuous family, the great
+lighthouse builders of the north, he was not, like them, intent upon
+the subjugation of obstinate stone, the ordering and ordaining of rocks
+and seas. Dhu Heartach and the Bell Rock and Skerryvore he could
+admire at a distance: but the material which cried aloud to him for
+mastery, was much more plastic,--yet, to him, no less stubborn. "I
+imagine," he declared, "nobody ever had such pains to learn a trade as
+I had; but I slogged at it day in and day out." His fastidious soul
+refused to be contented with a facile and slipshod utterance. A
+passionate quest: after _le mot propre_, which had led him, in his own
+phrase, to "play the sedulus ape" to all the great prose writers of the
+past--and a sense of style such as no man had ever so anxiously and
+assiduously developed in himself--these had achieved their own reward.
+"'Thanks to my dire industry," said Stevenson, "I have done more with
+smaller gifts than almost any man of letters in the world."
+
+And this was a just pride: for there was no branch of literature in
+which he could not admirably acquit himself. So many years a struggler
+in obscurity, with small hopes, few successes, little
+encouragement--battling with continuous and crippling maladies,--this
+indomitable artist, by sheer dint of "dire industry," now suddenly
+stood forth in full blaze of public recognition. The author of
+_Virginibus Puerisque_, _Treasure Island_, _Prince Otto_, _The Child's
+Garden of Verse_, and _Dr. Jekyll_, was very much a man to be reckoned
+with.
+
+Probably few modern books have met with such instantaneous and
+triumphant success as _Treasure Island_ and _Dr. Jekyll_. The first,
+after running its course, unannounced and comparatively unrecognized,
+the serial of an obscure author, in _Young Folks' Paper_, was published
+in book form,--and Stevenson, like Byron, "awoke to find himself
+famous." The honours which he had failed to obtain with all the dainty
+humour, all the valiant fatalism, of _Virginibus Puerisque_, had been
+accorded without stint to _Treasure Island_. It was a tense and
+stimulating piece of pure adventure. The authentic air of the
+eighteenth century breathed through every sentence of it: and its fine
+flavour of dare-devil romance kindled even sober statesmen, such as Mr.
+Gladstone, to a very furore of avidity in devouring its breathless
+pages.
+
+As for _Dr. Jekyll_, that gruesome work--literally the product of a
+nightmare--had been quoted in pulpits, discussed in newspapers, read by
+everybody,--it had taken the world by storm. Yet Stevenson's head was
+not turned by his tardily-won success: with his customary _sang froid_,
+he took things as they came, failures and triumphs, and met each alike
+with smiling gallantry.
+
+The motives which had led him into authorship--or rather forced him,
+despite all stress and hindrance of froward circumstances,--were as
+curiously varied as his own nature; and it was these motives which
+still drove him hard and incessantly. To fame he was perhaps not
+wholly indifferent. No author sits so austerely aloft as to disdain
+popular applause altogether. Yet a born stylist and a conscious
+artist, like Stevenson, knew that his most finished work was above and
+beyond the appreciation of the general public. For money,--though it
+was a necessity of life to him, and although, with all his recent
+triumphs, he was not at present earning more than £400 a year,--for
+money he did not care, except as a means to an end. "Wealth is only
+useful for two things," he said, "a yacht and a string quartet. Except
+for these, I hold that £700 a year is as much as a man can possibly
+want." Still, in declaring, "I do not write for the public," he added
+with engaging candour, "I do write for money, a nobler deity," and
+this, to a certain extent was true. It was for money only, no doubt,
+that he was now undertaking, against the grain, that "romance of
+tushery," _The Black Arrow_, a tale with a mediæval setting in which he
+felt himself ill at ease. But "most of all," he allowed, "I write for
+myself; not perhaps any more noble, but both more intelligent and
+nearer home."
+
+And that a man in such difficulties of health and finance, and so
+precarious a position, should have the courage of his own determined
+artistry, was in itself sufficiently remarkable: but the result more
+than justified his choice.
+
+All the morning, Stevenson had been upstairs writing: probably after a
+bad night; very likely in what any other man would term a totally unfit
+condition. Under any and all circumstances, he continued to write
+unflinchingly; racked by coughing, reeling with weakness, with his
+right arm in a sling, and his left hand holding the pen,--sitting up in
+bed with a clinical thermometer in his mouth; and yet, as he declared,
+"I like my life all the same ... I should bear false witness if I did
+not declare life happy." ... He was, in his own words, "made for a
+contest, and the powers have so willed that my battlefield should be
+this dingy, inglorious one of the bed and the physic bottle."
+
+"To declare life happy," became, in fact, his literary mission,--the
+condensed philosophy of his gay, inveterate courage. "I believe that
+literature should give joy," was his maxim, "one dank, dispirited word
+is harmful,--a crime of _lèse-humanité_." This brave and cheerful
+outlook is evident in all his essays,--it is, so to speak, a glorified
+and artistic Mark-Tapleyism, all-pervading, unimpugnable, ready to
+survive the most malevolent accidents of life, the crowning tragedy of
+death itself. And so you find the "chronic sickist," as he termed
+himself, still ready, in all but body, for great risks and inspiriting
+adventures, and--through a mist of pain--leading forlorn hopes with a
+waving sword of flame. You hear him proclaiming that:
+
+"All who have meant good work with their whole hearts, have done good
+work, although they may die before they have the time to sign it.
+Every heart that has beat strong and cheerfully has left a hopeful
+impulse behind it in the world, and bettered the tradition of mankind.
+And even if death catch people, like an open pitfall, and in
+mid-career, laying out vast projects, and planning monstrous
+foundations, flushed with hope, and their mouths full of boastful
+language, they should be at once tripped up and silenced; is there not
+something brave and spirited in such a termination? and does not life
+go down with a better grace, foaming in full body over a precipice,
+than miserable struggling to an end in sandy deltas?" (_Virginibus
+Puerisque_.)
+
+And to him, above all, applied his own triumphant lines, those which he
+addressed to W. E. Henley, another writer, a man of like courageous
+outlook, who, like himself, "in the fell grip of circumstances, had not
+winced nor cried aloud:
+
+ "... Small the pipe; but oh! do thou,
+ Peak-faced and suffering piper, blow therein
+ The dirge of heroes dead; and to these sick,
+ These dying, sound the triumph over death.
+ Behold! each greatly breathes; each tastes a joy
+ Unknown before in dying; for each knows
+ A hero dies with him--though unfulfilled,
+ Yet conquering truly--and not dies in vain."
+
+
+At present he was engaged upon _Kidnapped_, that admirable piece of
+fiction which he had begun, "partly as a lark and partly as a
+pot-boiler." It was a relief, after the concentrated horror of _Dr.
+Jekyll_, to escape into the Scottish heather-scent and to feel the salt
+sea-wind whistling through the cordage of _Kidnapped_.
+
+
+_Painting by W. Hatherell._
+
+ "She stood on the bulwarks and held on by a
+ stay, the wind blowing in her petticoats.
+
+_Catriona._
+
+[Illustration: _Catriona_]
+
+
+Stevenson was desirous to "get free of this prison-yard of the
+abominably ugly, where I take my daily exercise with my
+contemporaries." Possibly he recognised that the amazing popularity of
+_Jekyll_ had been due to the morbid attractiveness of its subject,
+rather than to its merits of craftsmanship; for, as he had averred, "I
+know that good work sometimes hits; but, with my hand on my heart, I
+think it is an accident." But now he was at liberty to give play to
+his infinite variety upon a true boys' book,--a story to satisfy the
+inveterate boyishness of his own heart. "Of the romance of boyhood and
+adolescence, it has been said, he is an unsurpassed master ... the
+philosophy of life developed in both his essays and romances is that
+rather of a gifted boy than a mature man." (J. W. Mackail.) And even
+the girls of Stevenson's imagination have been accused of being "boys
+in petticoats." The phrase has reason. "I have never admired a girl,"
+he wrote, and again, "I have never pleased myself with any women of
+mine." The other sex remained for him, throughout, a mystery which he
+hardly cared to solve,--a sealed book which he was not desirous to
+open. "Of the two eternal factors in the destiny of man, warfare and
+love," although he allowed that "to love is the great amulet which
+makes the world a garden," he preferred to deal almost exclusively with
+the warfare.
+
+And yet one women had played a very important part in Stevenson's life:
+and it was practically with his marriage that the tide of his fortunes
+had changed. His wife,--"trusty, dusky, vivid, true," was his very
+_alter ego_: with "a character" (to quote Mr. Sidney Colvin) "as
+strong, interesting, and romantic almost as his own: an inseparable
+sharer of all his thoughts, the most shrewd and stimulating of critics:
+and in sickness, despite her own precarious health, the most devoted
+and most efficient of nurses." To while away the weary hours of
+illness, Mrs. Stevenson made up stories to amuse him,--and subsequently
+the husband and wife would write them out together. She, with her
+"eyes of gold and bramble-dew," was literally all-in-all to him as
+companion, helpmate, friend;--and far--how infinitely far!--above the
+ideal wife whom he had described so adroitly,--in his bachelor
+days,--that woman who should have "a fine touch for the affections,"
+and who should at least be sufficiently talented to avoid boring her
+life-long comrade. The character of the ideal wife, as there
+indicated,--apt at gracious compromises, possessor of a cheerful fluent
+tongue,--was very obviously set forth by a man who had never yet been
+stirred by the sharp throbs of an imperative emotion. And now that
+Stevenson realised what love in its depth and breadth might mean, it
+held a certain sanctity for him,--he was loth to speak of it, as to
+write of it. It was a marvel that had befallen him personally: but for
+other people, it might still perhaps, be no more than that gentle
+domesticated affection which he had portrayed with such amiable humour.
+But there was one point in which he, consciously or unconsciously
+insisted, in his _desiderata_ of the female character.
+
+"It always warms a man," he had declared, "to see a woman brave," and
+he saw it daily in his wife. Therefore it came about, that, unversed
+in women--as Stevenson unquestionably was, he was able to endow his
+heroines with a touch of gallant boyishness, a hint of the heroic--and
+if they failed in flesh-and-blood-_vraisemblance_, they had that
+"steel-true, blade-straight" quality which he adored in the women he
+had chosen.
+
+You will notice this courageous virtue in all of them, rich and poor;
+from _Catriona_, that "tall, pretty, tender figure of a maiden, when,
+having assured her father's escape from prison by a bold stratagem, she
+arrives a fugitive and an exile at Helvoetsluys, and lands from the
+staggering side of the _Rose_ into the little boat below;--when, in
+David Balfour's words:
+
+"I began to think I had made a fool's bargain, that it was merely
+impossible Catriona should be got on board to me, and that I stood to
+be set ashore in Helvoet all by myself ... But this was to reckon
+without the lass's courage ... Up she stood on the bulwarks and held by
+a stay, the wind blowing in her petticoats, which made the enterprise
+more dangerous, and gave us rather more a view of her stockings than
+would be thought genteel in cities"--(_Catriona._)
+
+to Seraphina in _Prince Otto_, still inherently valorous in that
+desperate flight through the forest: where:
+
+"At length when she was well weary, she came upon a wide and shallow
+pool. Stones stood in it, like islands; bulrushes fringed the coast;
+the floor was paved with pine needles; and the pines themselves, whose
+roots made promontories, looked down silently on their green images.
+She crept to the margin and beheld herself with wonder, a hollow and
+bright-eyed phantom, in the ruins of her palace robe ... She addressed
+herself to make a toilette by that forest mirror, washed herself pure
+from all the stains of her adventure, took off her jewels and wrapped
+them in her handkerchief, re-arranged the tatters of her dress, and
+took down the folds of her hair. She shook it round her face, and the
+pool repeated her thus veiled." (_Prince Otto._)
+
+Clara Huddlestone, in the _Pavilion on the Links_, repeats the same
+undauntable note: Olalla is inexorable in moral courage of
+renunciation, even the weeping Blanche, in the _Sieur de Malétroit's
+Door_, has the mettle of some small creature at bay.
+
+The charm of Stevenson's heroines is, in short, a cold charm; nor does
+he often accord them the assistance of a personal description. But
+they are finely tempered, of the best Toledo steel, and owing to their
+boyish character, there is no very obvious gap in those novels where
+they are conspicuously absent, such as _The Ebb Tide_, _The Wreckers_,
+and _The Master of Ballantrae_. In the latter, indeed, there is a
+slight "female interest," but a stronger personality in the heroine
+must inevitably have changed or coloured the whole course of the book:
+and one cannot but detect a certain vacuum, where at least some emotion
+might have lifted a haggard head, in the character of Mrs. Henry,--even
+in that scene, surcharged with hidden explosive possibilities, when the
+author describes how:
+
+"The Master played upon that little ballad, and upon those who heard
+him, like an instrument, and seemed now upon the point of failing, and
+now to conquer his distress, so that the words and music seemed to pour
+out of his own heart and his own past, and to be aimed directly at Mrs.
+Henry.... When it came to an end we all sat silent for a time: he had
+chosen the dusk of the afternoon, so that none could see his
+neighbour's face: but it seemed as if we held our breathing: only my
+old lord cleared his throat. The first to move was the singer, who got
+to his feet suddenly and softly, and went and walked softly to and fro
+in the low end of the hall." (_The Master of Ballantrae._)
+
+
+But Mrs. Henry plays a very minor part in the marring or making, here,
+of two men's lives: it is a rôle of _vis inertiæ_ at best. And,
+indeed, when all is said, what shall a petticoat be if not irrelevant,
+among the clash of steel and smoke of pistols, in an atmosphere
+permeated by Spanish doubloons or illicit piratical treasure?
+Stevenson's infallible artistic instinct led him to keep the
+adventure-story pendant upon the deeds of men, and the eager mistakes
+of boys; and a certain curious penchant for the squalid, the submerged,
+the picturesque, brought him by choice into such company as no heroine
+should enter--that of Villon, for instance, and John Silver, and
+Herrick the cockney vagabond. "The spice of life is battle," he said;
+and his life, and his books, were brimful of battles with foes or with
+fortune.
+
+
+_Painting by W. Hatherell._
+
+ "'The words and music seemed to pour out of
+ his own heart and his own past and to be
+ aimed directly at Mrs. Henry."
+
+_Master of Ballantrae._
+
+[Illustration: _Master of Ballantrae_]
+
+
+The open-air life which he had perforce abandoned, the joy of physical
+strength and hair-breadth 'scape, could still be his by proxy. He
+revelled in delineating his ideal man:
+
+"Being a true lover of living, a fellow with something pushing and
+spontaneous in his inside, he must, like any other soldier, in any
+other stirring, deadly warfare, push on at his best pace until he touch
+the goal. 'A peerage or Westminster Abbey!' cried Nelson in his
+bright, boyish, heroic manner. These are great incentives; not for any
+of these, but for the plain satisfaction of living, of being about
+their business in some sort or other, do the brave, serviceable men of
+every nation tread down the nettle danger, and pass flyingly over all
+the stumbling-blocks of prudence." (_Virginibus Puerisque._)
+
+
+The tramp of horse-hoofs, the clank of the capstan, the door ajar--a
+thousand sights and sounds were but symbolisms to him of some
+mysterious by-way of adventure to be followed up, quick with latent
+possibilities of romance; and from one word, one name, he could evolve
+a whole intricate plot. With the simplest of sentences, he could
+electrify the startled reader, as when in _The Wrecker_, where the
+desperate castaways sit gambling on the desert island, and one suddenly
+cries aloud, "Sail ho!"
+
+"All turned at the cry,--and there, in the wild light of the morning,
+heading straight for Midway Reef, was the brig _Flying Scud_ of Hull."
+(_The Wrecker._)
+
+
+On that moment the whole tale hangs as on a pivot. All its involution
+and evolution, all its intricate and tangled clues, lead--backwards or
+forwards--to this one swift breathless sight.
+
+His morning's work accomplished, the tall gaunt man came downstairs,
+literally to play awhile. After weeks, it might be, of enforced
+seclusion in his room, his eye rested pleasurably upon the various
+attractive objects which almost seemed like new to him.
+Stevenson,--the avowed evader of personal property, the rolling-stone
+that had so long refused to gather moss,--was now, under a woman's
+tender surveillance, surrounded with charm and comfort. "Our drawing
+room," he maintained, "is a place so beautiful that it's like eating to
+sit down in it. No other room is so lovely in the world ... I blush
+for the figure I cut in such a bower." The garden, Mrs. Stevenson's
+special pleasure, but one in which her husband did not share, was very
+lovely, with a lawn, and heather-bank, and a half-acre of land, where a
+little stream ran down a "chine" full of rhododendrons. A large
+dovecot figured in the garden; and there also "Boguey," the Stevensons'
+dog, was buried, to whom no other dog had ever been deemed a worthy
+successor.
+
+Stevenson, his clothes hanging loosely on his emaciated figure, and his
+hands--"wonderful hands--long and fragile, like those in the early
+portraits of Velasquez," lingered lovingly over the keys. For a while
+he amused himself by picking out, note by note, the old-world dance
+measures of Lully and Rameau; those gavottes, rigadoons and minuets,
+which conveyed to him the indefinable _pot-pourri_-like, flavour of his
+favourite eighteenth century, embued with a certain stately dignity,
+"the periwig feeling," he called it, as of lords and ladies treading
+courtly measures. Stevenson was passionately fond of classical music,
+but he had never attained to any facility of execution. And when he
+grew tired with his efforts as an interpreter of Lully, he turned to
+"pickling," as he called it--composing, that is to say, after a
+fashion, with "the manly and melodious forefinger." The fact that he
+had invariably failed to master the rudiments of theory, in no wise
+deterred him; on the contrary, difficulties rather enhanced his
+delight. "Books are of no use," he avowed, "they tell you how to write
+in four parts, and that cannot be done by man." So he continued to
+"pickle" with a light heart, and to enjoy consecutive fifths and other
+theoretical delinquencies with an enthusiasm worthy of the most modern
+composer.
+
+Nothing but the lunch hour brought his musical experiments to a close.
+Stevenson, who had, in his own words, "been obliged to strip himself,
+one after another, of all the pleasures that he had chosen, except
+smoking" (and indeed, he was smoking cigarettes all day long) by no
+means disdained the pleasures of the table. Not, perhaps, in the role
+of a gourmet--but as an artist in the more recondite delicacies of
+taste and smell. "To detect the flavour of an olive is no less a piece
+of human perfection than to find beauty in the colours of a sunset," he
+observed; he coupled the flavour of wine with the beauty of the dawn,
+and declared that we do not recognise at its full value the great part
+in life that is played by eating and drinking. "There is a romance
+about the matter after all," he observed. "Probably the table has more
+devotees than love; and I am sure food is more generally entertaining
+than scenery." It was the "romance of the matter" that appealed to
+him; especially the colour, and savour, and poetical tradition of wine.
+"Books, and tobacco jars, and some old Burgundy as red as a November
+sunset, and as fragrant as a violet in April"--these, he thought,
+should suffice the most luxurious.
+
+After lunch, if he anticipated an exhausting evening, he went to
+sleep--at a moment's notice--and after a short, sound repose, was as
+eager as ever to resume his pianoforte amusements; which he continued
+until friends arrived.
+
+At the age of four-and-twenty, Stevenson had noted down his three chief
+wishes. "First, good health: secondly, a small competence: thirdly, _O
+Du lieber Gott!_ friends." The first: wish was irrevocably denied: the
+second was only just beginning to be granted, the guerdon of unresting
+toil: the third petition had been abundantly answered. Never was a man
+more happy in his friends; or one who made them so instantaneously and
+without effort. "He had only to speak," said one friend, "in order to
+be recognised in the first minute for a witty and charming gentleman,
+and in the second, for a man of genius." Some, indeed, like Mr. Edmund
+Gosse, came home dazzled and astounded, saying, as Constance does of
+Arthur, "Was ever such a gracious creature born?" His expression, of
+mingled tenderness and mirth, his "scholarly and eclectic
+presence"--together with his picturesque, velvet-coated appearance, and
+his flashing flow of words, combined to make a man so attractive and so
+unique as could command all love at will. And the friends were very
+many and very notable, who haunted Skerryvore. First and foremost was
+"Bob," Mr. R. A. M. Stevenson, the poet's first cousin, the brilliant
+art critic: "the man likest and most unlike to me," as R.L.S. described
+him. "Bob's" sister, Mrs. de Mattos, and her child were frequent
+visitors; then there were celebrities from London: such as Sargent the
+painter, William Archer, Sidney Colvin, W. E. Henley, Henry James; and
+again friends residing in the neighbourhood of Bournemouth; the poet
+Sir Henry Taylor, and his family; Sir Percy Shelley and his wife.
+These latter, indeed, regarded Stevenson almost in the light of a son.
+He struck them as bearing an extraordinary resemblance to Percy Bysshe
+Shelley; less, perhaps, in lineaments than in figure and in mind; and
+in consequence of this similarity, they held him very dear.
+
+But to all he was the same bewildering charming host, the man who
+variously displayed, to quote W. E. Henley:
+
+ "A deal of Ariel, just a streak of Puck,
+ Much Antony, of Hamlet most of all,--"
+
+And combined with these curiously versatile fruits, "something of the
+Shorter Catechist."
+
+Generous in criticism, kind in praise, grave and humorous in rapid
+transition, the amazing scope and variety of Stevenson's writings were
+excelled by the scope and variety of his talk. "There was no part of
+the writer that was not visibly present in the man." (Graham Balfour.)
+He had laid down his opinion that "there can be no fairer ambition than
+to excel in talk; to be affable, gay, ready, clear and welcome." But
+none save those who were privileged to hear him, as with quick,
+impetuous gestures, like a Southern foreigner, he emphasised his
+phrases, could realise the power, the versatility, the inexpressible,
+irrepressible charm with which the author could fulfil his "fair
+ambition."
+
+When the visitors had severally taken their departure, the strong
+resonant voice, with its Scottish accent and rich, full tones still
+ringing in their ears,--Stevenson had suffered no abatement in the
+stream of his exuberant mental vitality. The excitement of
+conversation had, if anything, keyed him up; and presently, for the
+writing of a few unavoidable letters, he betook himself to his study;
+"the study where a smiling God beholds each day my stage of labour
+trod," and sate himself down there with reluctance.
+
+
+_Painting by W. Hatherell._
+
+ "All turned at the cry, and there in the wild
+ light of the morning heaving straight for
+ midway reef was the brig _Flying Scud_ of
+ Hull."
+
+_The Wrecker._
+
+[Illustration: _The Wrecker_]
+
+
+Correspondence, as a rule, he found but an irksome affair; unless
+conducted upon his own whimsical lines. "I deny that letters should
+contain news--I mean mine--those of other people should," was his
+theory; and he boasted himself of a "willingness to pour forth
+unmitigated rot, which constitutes in me the true spirit of
+correspondence." For all that, his letters, grave or gay, remain among
+the most delightful reading in existence; flavoured with his quaintest
+conceits, endowed with his most delicate turns of phrase, and often
+tempered with that "something of the Shorter Catechist" to which Henley
+had alluded.
+
+For, undoubtedly, as time went on, although Stevenson continued to
+"combine the face of a boy with the distinguished bearing of a man of
+the world," he was gradually exchanging the "streak of Puck" and the
+capricious unconventions of the born Bohemian, for something graver and
+more mature,--a tendency almost towards the didactic. "'Tis a strange
+world indeed," he had commented, "but there is a manifest God for those
+who care to look for Him." And now, "with the passing of years," he
+observed, "there grows more and more upon me that belief in the
+kindness of this scheme of things, and the goodness of our veiled God,
+which is an excellent and pacifying compensation." He was suffering,
+and in all probability would perpetually suffer, from "that sharp
+ferule of calamity under which we are all God's scholars till we die":
+but his patience was impregnable, and his desire to leave a brave
+example bore him constant company. "To suffer," said he, "sets a keen
+edge on what remains of the agreeable," and he prepared to enjoy with
+equal zest all pleasures which were still permitted to him.
+
+As he put away his writing materials, and descended once more to his
+beloved piano, his father and mother came in. They were living in
+Bournemouth to be near their only son. The old lighthouse engineer,
+whose father had built the Bell Rock, who had served under his brother
+Alan in the building of Skerryvore, "the noblest of all extant
+sea-lights," who had himself erected Dhu Heartach, was now palpably
+failing. The spectacle of a stern and honest man slowly evacuating all
+that he had held of personal strength, was, to his son Louis, a
+poignantly pathetic one. Their disagreements had been very many and
+deep-rooted, dating from even before that "dreadful evening walk" in
+Stevenson's youth, when, "on being tightly cross-questioned," the lad
+who had been trained for a civil engineer, and had "worked in a
+carpenter's shop and had a brass foundry, and hung about wood-yards and
+the like," confessed that he cared for nothing but literature,--"no
+profession!" as his father contemptuously replied. They had differed
+on almost every conceivable topic open to their discussion,--yet here,
+in the fulness of time, they were at peace together,--the austere old
+man in his second childhood, and the chronic invalid who "must live as
+though he were walking on eggs." Innumerable ineffaceable traits of
+similarity bound one to the other; at bottom of all the bygone angers
+lay a permanent bedrock of mutual love. And perhaps the nearing vision
+of death which terminated all vistas for both of them, exercised its
+usual effect, of calm, and _laisser-faire_, and the equalisation of
+things: for it is probable that no man has a just sense of
+proportionate values until he stands in the presence of death.
+
+Stevenson had often alluded, as a matter of personal knowledge, to his
+constant prescience of mortality, and how it affected a man's thoughts
+of life. Very seldom has the view of the confirmed invalid, the doomed
+consumptive, been put forth to the world with the frankness with which
+Stevenson invested it. He has been sometimes charged with a certain
+lack of reticence: but in this matter, unquestionably, his candour was
+to the benefitting of mankind: to whom these close views of the
+inevitable end are rarely possible under such deliberate and
+clear-headed conditions.
+
+There is nothing maudlin, nothing hypochondriacal, about Stevenson's
+treatment of this subject: the same cheerful philosophy bears him up,
+the same vitality of joy. It is hardly to be wondered at, that some
+critics handled him seriously, on account of his lightheartedness in
+the august shadow of the last enemy,--and his inveterate optimism in
+the face of all calamities. "He jests at scars who never felt a
+wound," they practically told him,--and could hardly be persuaded to
+credit the paradox that the man who preached in season and out of
+season, the gospel of that "cheery old Pagan, Hope," was not a denizen
+of the open-air,--healthy, athletic, vigorous, incapable of realising
+the maladies incident to man,--instead of an emaciated, bed-ridden
+creature, whose smallest pleasures must be measured, so to speak, in a
+medicine-glass. But, "It is something after all," he has said, "to
+leave a brave example": and in that he triumphantly succeeded. For the
+opportunities of meteoric heroisms are few and far between; but every
+hour beholds the need of those obscurer braveries which may be born of
+pain and suffering....
+
+In _Ordered South_ and other well-known essays, he shows the gradual
+relaxation of the ties which bind a man to terrestrial things,--and the
+curiously significant alteration in his regard for the facts of
+life,--from the sower in the dank spring furrows, to the sight of
+little children with their long possibilities before them.
+
+Stevenson had no children of his own. His stepson, Lloyd Osbourne,
+then at school in Bournemouth, was destined to become his friend and
+collaborator: but it is doubtful that he cared for children as such.
+The average small folk, "dragged about in a pleasing stupor by nurses,"
+were very far remote from that superabundant vitality nursed in an
+attenuated physique, which had sat up with a shawl over its shoulders,
+so many tedious months in childhood, when its principal _habitat_ was
+"The Land of Counterpane" and other regions mapped out in the great and
+glorious world of Make-Believe.
+
+
+_Painting by W. Hatherell._
+
+ST. IVES DESCENDS FROM EDINBURGH CASTLE.
+
+ "The whole forces of my mind were so consumed
+ with losing hold and getting it again, that I
+ could scarce have told whether I was going up
+ or coming down."
+
+_St. Ives._
+
+[Illustration: _St. Ives_]
+
+
+For this reason, the _Child's Garden of Verses_ is not, in any real
+sense of the word, a child's book at all. It contains the exquisite
+imaginations of childhood as the grown-up man remembers them: to him
+they have the charm of the vanished past, they are the utterances of
+one who has also lived in Arcadia. But to the child, they are the very
+commonplaces of existence. To sway to and fro in a swing, "the
+pleasantest thing a child can do,"--to bring home treasures from field
+and wood, nuts and wooden whistles, and some all-precious
+unidentifiable stone, "though father denies it, I'm sure it is
+gold,"--these are everyday affairs to the country-child,--just as
+watching the lamplighter is to the town child. To read verses about
+them is but a waste of time, when one might be actively engaged in
+similar avocations. But to the grown-man who can never play with
+wooden soldiers in the garden, never be a pirate any more,--these
+reminiscences of Stevenson's are a delight unfailing. No one else has
+ever worded them quite so accurately, quite so simply: and, taken all
+for all, they are in themselves a summing-up of that most excellent
+philosophy of this author, "The world is so full of a number of things,
+I'm sure we should all be as happy as kings!" The world was indeed
+full of a number of things to R.L.S. and,--passed through the crucible
+of his own astonishing personality,--they were all, bad or good,
+transmogrified into things that make for joy.
+
+After eight o'clock dinner was over, the old folks bade
+good-night,--the father, with touching affection, kissing Louis as
+though he were a child, and murmuring, "You'll see me in the morning,
+dearie," as if still addressing that little feeble creature who had
+been kept alive with such difficulty in the old days at Edinburgh.
+
+The younger man returned to the piano-forte; it drew him like a magnet.
+For a short time he indulged in his desultory music-making, relishing
+to the uttermost every success of sound which he achieved: and the
+happiness, which was his theory of life, radiated in warm abundance
+from his richly-tinted face and glowing eyes. "It's a fine life," he
+exclaimed.
+
+At last the day's supply of energy succumbed before the imperious
+demands of this "fiery threadpaper of a man," and in deference to his
+wife's suggestion he betook himself to bed. Not necessarily to rest;
+for even in his dreams his busy brain was working, and his "Brownies,"
+as he termed them, bringing him fresh material for plots. _Dr. Jekyll_
+had been thus evolved from three scenes dreamed successively in detail,
+from which the dreamer waked with cries of horror.
+
+But he did not flinch before the coming night, and anything that it
+might bring of sickness or unrest. He thought alone upon the past
+delightful day, fraught with strenuous work and simple pleasures; and
+he petitioned, in his own words:
+
+ "If I have faltered more or less
+ In my great task of happiness;
+ If I have moved along my race
+ And shown no glorious morning face;
+ If beams from happy human eyes
+ Have moved me not; if morning skies,
+ Books, and my food, and summer rain
+ Knocked on my sullen heart in vain:--
+ Lord, Thy most pointed pleasure take
+ And stab my spirit broad awake!"
+ (_Underwoods._)
+
+
+His wife hovered around him with gentle ministrations, as suddenly
+out-wearied, Robert Louis Stevenson extended his long, lean form to a
+possible repose. There was not, perhaps, a cheerfuller man that night
+in England.
+
+The sea hummed at the foot of the chine, with that soft and dove-like
+purring of the South-coast sea; the doves made answer with a vibrant
+cooing in the middle distance of the twilight garden. Spring buds of
+pear-trees and cherry-trees globed themselves stealthily into blossom;
+a delicate latent energy was consciously present in the air--the rising
+of sap and revivification of seed, all the mysterious hidden progresses
+of April. And the man whose ways were set in a perpetual convergence
+towards the doors of death, waved, so to speak, a blithe recognition to
+the myriad hosts of life.
+
+"O toiling hands of mortals! O unwearied feet, travelling ye know not
+whither! Soon, soon, it seems to you, you must come forth on some
+conspicuous hilltop, and but a little way further, against the setting
+sun, descry the spires of El Dorado. Little do ye know your own
+blessedness; for to travel hopefully is a better thing than to arrive,
+and the true success is labour." (_Virginibus Puerisque._)
+
+
+
+The author desires to acknowledge the kindness of Messrs. Cassell &
+Co., in allowing short extracts to be made from _The Master of
+Ballantrae_, _The Wrecker_, and _Catriona_; also to thank Mr. William
+Heinemann for a similar courtesy with regard to _St. Ives_, and Messrs.
+Chatto & Windus for their permission to include various quotations from
+_Virginibus Puerisque_, _Underwoods_, and _Prince Otto_.
+
+
+
+ Printed by The Bushey Colour Press (André & Sleigh, Ltd.),
+ Bushey, Herts., England.
+
+
+
+
+[Illustration: Rear cover]
+
+
+
+
+
+
+
+
+
+
+
+End of Project Gutenberg's A Day with Robert Louis Stevenson, by Maurice Clare
+
+*** END OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK 53165 ***
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-Project Gutenberg's A Day with Robert Louis Stevenson, by Maurice Clare
-
-This eBook is for the use of anyone anywhere in the United States and most
-other parts of the world at no cost and with almost no restrictions
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-to check the laws of the country where you are located before using this ebook.
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-Title: A Day with Robert Louis Stevenson
-
-Author: Maurice Clare
-
-Release Date: September 28, 2016 [EBook #53165]
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-*** START OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK A DAY WITH ROBERT LOUIS STEVENSON ***
-
-
-
-
-Produced by Al Haines
-
-
-
-
-
-</pre>
-
-
-<p><br /><br /></p>
-
-<p class="capcenter">
-<a id="img-cover-f"></a>
-<img class="imgcenter" src="images/img-cover-f.jpg" alt="Cover art" />
-<br />
-Cover art
-</p>
-
-<p><br /><br /></p>
-
-<p class="capcenter">
-<a id="img-000"></a>
-<img class="imgcenter" src="images/img-000.jpg" alt="Robert Louis Stevenson" />
-<br />
-Robert Louis Stevenson
-</p>
-
-<p><br /><br /></p>
-
-<p class="noindent">
-<i>Painting by W. Hatherell.</i>
-</p>
-
-<p class="noindent">
-"Took down the folds of her hair&mdash;shook it<br />
-round her face and the pool repeated her<br />
-thus veiled."
-</p>
-
-<p class="noindent">
-<i>Prince Otto.</i>
-</p>
-
-<p><br /></p>
-
-<p class="capcenter">
-<a id="img-front-t"></a>
-<a href="images/img-front.jpg">
-<img class="imgcenter" src="images/img-front-t.jpg" alt="Prince Otto" />
-</a>
-<br />
-<i>Prince Otto</i>
-</p>
-
-<h1>
-<br /><br />
- A DAY WITH<br />
- ROBERT LOUIS<br />
- STEVENSON<br />
-</h1>
-
-<p><br /></p>
-
-<p class="t2b">
- BY MAURICE CLARE<br />
-</p>
-
-<p><br /><br /></p>
-
-<p class="t2">
- LONDON<br />
- HODDER &amp; STOUGHTON<br />
- 1910<br />
-</p>
-
-<p><br /><br /><br /></p>
-
-<p class="noindent">
- <i>In the same Series.<br />
- &nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;Dickens.<br />
- &nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;Thackeray.</i><br />
-</p>
-
-<p><br /><br /><br /></p>
-
-<p><a id="chap01"></a></p>
-
-<h3>
-A DAY WITH STEVENSON.
-</h3>
-
-<p><br /></p>
-
-<p>
-Supposing that in the month
-of April, 1886, you had arrived,
-a guest foreseen, at the pleasant
-ivy-muffled dwelling in Bournemouth,
-which had recently adopted
-the name of Skerryvore, and
-that you had been permitted to
-enter its doors&mdash;you might account yourself a
-somewhat favoured person. For the master
-of the house, "that rickety and cloistered
-spectre," as he termed himself, the "pallid
-brute who lived in Skerryvore like a weevil
-in a biscuit," might be invisible for the
-nonce&mdash;shut upstairs, forbidden even to speak for
-fear of inducing hemorrhage. Or again, you
-might yourself be afflicted with an obvious
-cold: in which case you would not be admitted
-into his presence, lest you left contagion of
-that cold.
-</p>
-
-<p>
-But if fate befriended you, you would
-chance upon the most remarkable personality,
-it might be, that you had yet encountered. A
-lean, long flat-chested man, gracefully emphatic
-of gesture&mdash;pacing up and down the room as he
-talked&mdash;burning with hectic energy&mdash;a man of
-rich brown tints in hair and eyes and skin:
-mutable, mirthful, brilliant&mdash;above all "vital,"
-as he had described himself, "wholly vital with
-a buoyance of life" which had upborne him
-hitherto over the crest of most tumultuous distresses.
-</p>
-
-<p>
-Robert Louis Stevenson was now thirty-six
-years old: and ever since his sixth year, when,
-as his mother recorded in her diary, he dreamed
-that he "heard the noise of pens writing," his
-aim had been set unswervingly toward the one
-goal. Born of a strong and strenuous family,
-the great lighthouse builders of the north, he
-was not, like them, intent upon the subjugation
-of obstinate stone, the ordering and ordaining
-of rocks and seas. Dhu Heartach and the Bell
-Rock and Skerryvore he could admire at a
-distance: but the material which cried aloud to
-him for mastery, was much more plastic,&mdash;yet,
-to him, no less stubborn. "I imagine," he
-declared, "nobody ever had such pains to learn
-a trade as I had; but I slogged at it day in and
-day out." His fastidious soul refused to be
-contented with a facile and slipshod utterance.
-A passionate quest: after <i>le mot propre</i>, which had
-led him, in his own phrase, to "play the sedulus
-ape" to all the great prose writers of the
-past&mdash;and a sense of style such as no man had ever so
-anxiously and assiduously developed in
-himself&mdash;these had achieved their own reward.
-"'Thanks to my dire industry," said Stevenson,
-"I have done more with smaller gifts than
-almost any man of letters in the world."
-</p>
-
-<p>
-And this was a just pride: for there was
-no branch of literature in which he could not
-admirably acquit himself. So many years a
-struggler in obscurity, with small hopes, few
-successes, little encouragement&mdash;battling with
-continuous and crippling maladies,&mdash;this
-indomitable artist, by sheer dint of "dire industry,"
-now suddenly stood forth in full blaze of
-public recognition. The author of <i>Virginibus
-Puerisque</i>, <i>Treasure Island</i>, <i>Prince Otto</i>, <i>The Child's
-Garden of Verse</i>, and <i>Dr. Jekyll</i>, was very much
-a man to be reckoned with.
-</p>
-
-<p>
-Probably few modern books have met with
-such instantaneous and triumphant success as
-<i>Treasure Island</i> and <i>Dr. Jekyll</i>. The first, after
-running its course, unannounced and comparatively
-unrecognized, the serial of an obscure
-author, in <i>Young Folks' Paper</i>, was published
-in book form,&mdash;and Stevenson, like Byron,
-"awoke to find himself famous." The honours
-which he had failed to obtain with all the
-dainty humour, all the valiant fatalism, of
-<i>Virginibus Puerisque</i>, had been accorded
-without stint to <i>Treasure Island</i>. It was a tense
-and stimulating piece of pure adventure. The
-authentic air of the eighteenth century breathed
-through every sentence of it: and its fine
-flavour of dare-devil romance kindled even
-sober statesmen, such as Mr. Gladstone, to a
-very furore of avidity in devouring its
-breathless pages.
-</p>
-
-<p>
-As for <i>Dr. Jekyll</i>, that gruesome
-work&mdash;literally the product of a nightmare&mdash;had been
-quoted in pulpits, discussed in newspapers, read
-by everybody,&mdash;it had taken the world by
-storm. Yet Stevenson's head was not turned
-by his tardily-won success: with his customary
-<i>sang froid</i>, he took things as they came, failures
-and triumphs, and met each alike with smiling gallantry.
-</p>
-
-<p>
-The motives which had led him into authorship&mdash;or
-rather forced him, despite all stress
-and hindrance of froward circumstances,&mdash;were
-as curiously varied as his own nature; and it
-was these motives which still drove him hard
-and incessantly. To fame he was perhaps not
-wholly indifferent. No author sits so austerely
-aloft as to disdain popular applause altogether.
-Yet a born stylist and a conscious artist, like
-Stevenson, knew that his most finished work
-was above and beyond the appreciation of the
-general public. For money,&mdash;though it was a
-necessity of life to him, and although, with all
-his recent triumphs, he was not at present
-earning more than £400 a year,&mdash;for money he
-did not care, except as a means to an end.
-"Wealth is only useful for two things," he
-said, "a yacht and a string quartet. Except
-for these, I hold that £700 a year is as much as
-a man can possibly want." Still, in declaring,
-"I do not write for the public," he added with
-engaging candour, "I do write for money, a
-nobler deity," and this, to a certain extent was
-true. It was for money only, no doubt, that he
-was now undertaking, against the grain, that
-"romance of tushery," <i>The Black Arrow</i>, a tale
-with a mediæval setting in which he felt himself
-ill at ease. But "most of all," he allowed, "I
-write for myself; not perhaps any more noble,
-but both more intelligent and nearer home."
-</p>
-
-<p>
-And that a man in such difficulties of health
-and finance, and so precarious a position, should
-have the courage of his own determined artistry,
-was in itself sufficiently remarkable: but the
-result more than justified his choice.
-</p>
-
-<p>
-All the morning, Stevenson had been
-upstairs writing: probably after a bad night;
-very likely in what any other man would term
-a totally unfit condition. Under any and all
-circumstances, he continued to write unflinchingly;
-racked by coughing, reeling with weakness,
-with his right arm in a sling, and his left
-hand holding the pen,&mdash;sitting up in bed with
-a clinical thermometer in his mouth; and yet,
-as he declared, "I like my life all the same
-... I should bear false witness if I did not
-declare life happy." ... He was, in his own
-words, "made for a contest, and the powers
-have so willed that my battlefield should be
-this dingy, inglorious one of the bed and the
-physic bottle."
-</p>
-
-<p>
-"To declare life happy," became, in fact,
-his literary mission,&mdash;the condensed philosophy
-of his gay, inveterate courage. "I believe that
-literature should give joy," was his maxim,
-"one dank, dispirited word is harmful,&mdash;a
-crime of <i>lèse-humanité</i>." This brave and cheerful
-outlook is evident in all his essays,&mdash;it is,
-so to speak, a glorified and artistic
-Mark-Tapleyism, all-pervading, unimpugnable, ready
-to survive the most malevolent accidents of
-life, the crowning tragedy of death itself. And
-so you find the "chronic sickist," as he termed
-himself, still ready, in all but body, for great
-risks and inspiriting adventures, and&mdash;through
-a mist of pain&mdash;leading forlorn hopes with a
-waving sword of flame. You hear him
-proclaiming that:
-</p>
-
-<p>
-"All who have meant good work with their
-whole hearts, have done good work, although
-they may die before they have the time to sign
-it. Every heart that has beat strong and
-cheerfully has left a hopeful impulse behind it
-in the world, and bettered the tradition of
-mankind. And even if death catch people,
-like an open pitfall, and in mid-career, laying
-out vast projects, and planning monstrous
-foundations, flushed with hope, and their
-mouths full of boastful language, they should
-be at once tripped up and silenced; is there
-not something brave and spirited in such a
-termination? and does not life go down with
-a better grace, foaming in full body over a
-precipice, than miserable struggling to an end
-in sandy deltas?" (<i>Virginibus Puerisque</i>.)
-</p>
-
-<p>
-And to him, above all, applied his own
-triumphant lines, those which he addressed to
-W. E. Henley, another writer, a man of like
-courageous outlook, who, like himself, "in the
-fell grip of circumstances, had not winced nor
-cried aloud:
-</p>
-
-<p class="poem">
- "... Small the pipe; but oh! do thou,<br />
- Peak-faced and suffering piper, blow therein<br />
- The dirge of heroes dead; and to these sick,<br />
- These dying, sound the triumph over death.<br />
- Behold! each greatly breathes; each tastes a joy<br />
- Unknown before in dying; for each knows<br />
- A hero dies with him&mdash;though unfulfilled,<br />
- Yet conquering truly&mdash;and not dies in vain."<br />
-</p>
-
-<p><br /></p>
-
-<p>
-At present he was engaged upon <i>Kidnapped</i>,
-that admirable piece of fiction which he had
-begun, "partly as a lark and partly as a
-pot-boiler." It was a relief, after the concentrated
-horror of <i>Dr. Jekyll</i>, to escape into the Scottish
-heather-scent and to feel the salt sea-wind
-whistling through the cordage of <i>Kidnapped</i>.
-</p>
-
-<p><br /></p>
-
-<p class="noindent">
-<i>Painting by W. Hatherell.</i>
-</p>
-
-<p class="noindent">
-"She stood on the bulwarks and held on by a<br />
-stay, the wind blowing in her petticoats.
-</p>
-
-<p class="noindent">
-<i>Catriona.</i>
-</p>
-
-<p><br /></p>
-
-<p class="capcenter">
-<a id="img-012-t"></a>
-<a href="images/img-012.jpg">
-<img class="imgcenter" src="images/img-012-t.jpg" alt="Catriona" />
-</a>
-<br />
-<i>Catriona</i>
-</p>
-
-<p><br /></p>
-
-<p>
-Stevenson was desirous to "get free of this
-prison-yard of the abominably ugly, where I
-take my daily exercise with my contemporaries." Possibly
-he recognised that the amazing
-popularity of <i>Jekyll</i> had been due to the morbid
-attractiveness of its subject, rather than to its
-merits of craftsmanship; for, as he had averred,
-"I know that good work sometimes hits; but,
-with my hand on my heart, I think it is an
-accident." But now he was at liberty to give
-play to his infinite variety upon a true boys'
-book,&mdash;a story to satisfy the inveterate
-boyishness of his own heart. "Of the romance of
-boyhood and adolescence, it has been said, he
-is an unsurpassed master ... the philosophy
-of life developed in both his essays and romances
-is that rather of a gifted boy than a mature
-man." (J. W. Mackail.) And even the girls
-of Stevenson's imagination have been accused
-of being "boys in petticoats." The phrase has
-reason. "I have never admired a girl," he
-wrote, and again, "I have never pleased
-myself with any women of mine." The other sex
-remained for him, throughout, a mystery which
-he hardly cared to solve,&mdash;a sealed book which
-he was not desirous to open. "Of the two
-eternal factors in the destiny of man, warfare
-and love," although he allowed that "to love
-is the great amulet which makes the world a
-garden," he preferred to deal almost exclusively
-with the warfare.
-</p>
-
-<p>
-And yet one women had played a very
-important part in Stevenson's life: and it was
-practically with his marriage that the tide of
-his fortunes had changed. His wife,&mdash;"trusty,
-dusky, vivid, true," was his very <i>alter ego</i>: with
-"a character" (to quote Mr. Sidney Colvin)
-"as strong, interesting, and romantic almost
-as his own: an inseparable sharer of all his
-thoughts, the most shrewd and stimulating of
-critics: and in sickness, despite her own
-precarious health, the most devoted and most
-efficient of nurses." To while away the weary
-hours of illness, Mrs. Stevenson made up
-stories to amuse him,&mdash;and subsequently the
-husband and wife would write them out
-together. She, with her "eyes of gold and
-bramble-dew," was literally all-in-all to him as
-companion, helpmate, friend;&mdash;and far&mdash;how
-infinitely far!&mdash;above the ideal wife whom he
-had described so adroitly,&mdash;in his bachelor
-days,&mdash;that woman who should have "a fine
-touch for the affections," and who should at
-least be sufficiently talented to avoid boring her
-life-long comrade. The character of the ideal
-wife, as there indicated,&mdash;apt at gracious
-compromises, possessor of a cheerful fluent
-tongue,&mdash;was very obviously set forth by a man who
-had never yet been stirred by the sharp throbs
-of an imperative emotion. And now that
-Stevenson realised what love in its depth and
-breadth might mean, it held a certain sanctity
-for him,&mdash;he was loth to speak of it, as to write
-of it. It was a marvel that had befallen him
-personally: but for other people, it might still
-perhaps, be no more than that gentle domesticated
-affection which he had portrayed with
-such amiable humour. But there was one
-point in which he, consciously or unconsciously
-insisted, in his <i>desiderata</i> of the female
-character.
-</p>
-
-<p>
-"It always warms a man," he had declared,
-"to see a woman brave," and he saw it daily
-in his wife. Therefore it came about, that,
-unversed in women&mdash;as Stevenson unquestionably
-was, he was able to endow his heroines
-with a touch of gallant boyishness, a hint of
-the heroic&mdash;and if they failed in
-flesh-and-blood-<i>vraisemblance</i>,
-they had that "steel-true,
-blade-straight" quality which he adored in the
-women he had chosen.
-</p>
-
-<p>
-You will notice this courageous virtue in
-all of them, rich and poor; from <i>Catriona</i>, that
-"tall, pretty, tender figure of a maiden, when,
-having assured her father's escape from prison
-by a bold stratagem, she arrives a fugitive and
-an exile at Helvoetsluys, and lands from the
-staggering side of the <i>Rose</i> into the little boat
-below;&mdash;when, in David Balfour's words:
-</p>
-
-<p>
-"I began to think I had made a fool's
-bargain, that it was merely impossible Catriona
-should be got on board to me, and that I stood
-to be set ashore in Helvoet all by myself
-... But this was to reckon without the lass's courage
-... Up she stood on the bulwarks and held
-by a stay, the wind blowing in her petticoats,
-which made the enterprise more dangerous,
-and gave us rather more a view of her stockings
-than would be thought genteel in cities"&mdash;(<i>Catriona.</i>)
-</p>
-
-<p class="noindent">
-to Seraphina in <i>Prince Otto</i>, still inherently
-valorous in that desperate flight through the
-forest: where:
-</p>
-
-<p>
-"At length when she was well weary, she
-came upon a wide and shallow pool. Stones
-stood in it, like islands; bulrushes fringed the
-coast; the floor was paved with pine needles;
-and the pines themselves, whose roots made
-promontories, looked down silently on their
-green images. She crept to the margin and
-beheld herself with wonder, a hollow and
-bright-eyed phantom, in the ruins of her palace
-robe ... She addressed herself to make a
-toilette by that forest mirror, washed herself
-pure from all the stains of her adventure, took
-off her jewels and wrapped them in her handkerchief,
-re-arranged the tatters of her dress, and
-took down the folds of her hair. She shook it
-round her face, and the pool repeated her thus
-veiled." (<i>Prince Otto.</i>)
-</p>
-
-<p>
-Clara Huddlestone, in the <i>Pavilion on the
-Links</i>, repeats the same undauntable note: Olalla
-is inexorable in moral courage of renunciation,
-even the weeping Blanche, in the <i>Sieur de
-Malétroit's Door</i>, has the mettle of some small
-creature at bay.
-</p>
-
-<p>
-The charm of Stevenson's heroines is, in
-short, a cold charm; nor does he often accord
-them the assistance of a personal description.
-But they are finely tempered, of the best Toledo
-steel, and owing to their boyish character, there
-is no very obvious gap in those novels where
-they are conspicuously absent, such as <i>The Ebb
-Tide</i>, <i>The Wreckers</i>, and <i>The Master of Ballantrae</i>.
-In the latter, indeed, there is a slight "female
-interest," but a stronger personality in the
-heroine must inevitably have changed or
-coloured the whole course of the book: and
-one cannot but detect a certain vacuum, where
-at least some emotion might have lifted a
-haggard head, in the character of Mrs. Henry,&mdash;even
-in that scene, surcharged with hidden
-explosive possibilities, when the author
-describes how:
-</p>
-
-<p>
-"The Master played upon that little ballad,
-and upon those who heard him, like an instrument,
-and seemed now upon the point of failing,
-and now to conquer his distress, so that the
-words and music seemed to pour out of his own
-heart and his own past, and to be aimed directly
-at Mrs. Henry.... When it came to an end
-we all sat silent for a time: he had chosen the
-dusk of the afternoon, so that none could see
-his neighbour's face: but it seemed as if we
-held our breathing: only my old lord cleared
-his throat. The first to move was the singer,
-who got to his feet suddenly and softly, and
-went and walked softly to and fro in the low
-end of the hall." (<i>The Master of Ballantrae.</i>)
-</p>
-
-<p><br /></p>
-
-<p>
-But Mrs. Henry plays a very minor part
-in the marring or making, here, of two men's
-lives: it is a rôle of <i>vis inertiæ</i> at best. And,
-indeed, when all is said, what shall a petticoat
-be if not irrelevant, among the clash of steel
-and smoke of pistols, in an atmosphere
-permeated by Spanish doubloons or illicit piratical
-treasure? Stevenson's infallible artistic
-instinct led him to keep the adventure-story
-pendant upon the deeds of men, and the eager
-mistakes of boys; and a certain curious
-penchant for the squalid, the submerged, the
-picturesque, brought him by choice into such
-company as no heroine should enter&mdash;that of
-Villon, for instance, and John Silver, and
-Herrick the cockney vagabond. "The spice
-of life is battle," he said; and his life, and his
-books, were brimful of battles with foes or
-with fortune.
-</p>
-
-<p><br /></p>
-
-<p class="noindent">
-<i>Painting by W. Hatherell.</i>
-</p>
-
-<p class="noindent">
-"'The words and music seemed to pour out of<br />
-his own heart and his own past and to be<br />
-aimed directly at Mrs. Henry."
-</p>
-
-<p class="noindent">
-<i>Master of Ballantrae.</i>
-</p>
-
-<p><br /></p>
-
-<p class="capcenter">
-<a id="img-020-t"></a>
-<a href="images/img-020.jpg">
-<img class="imgcenter" src="images/img-020-t.jpg" alt="Master of Ballantrae" />
-</a>
-<br />
-<i>Master of Ballantrae</i>
-</p>
-
-<p><br /></p>
-
-<p>
-The open-air life which he had perforce
-abandoned, the joy of physical strength and
-hair-breadth 'scape, could still be his by proxy.
-He revelled in delineating his ideal man:
-</p>
-
-<p>
-"Being a true lover of living, a fellow with
-something pushing and spontaneous in his inside,
-he must, like any other soldier, in any other
-stirring, deadly warfare, push on at his best
-pace until he touch the goal. 'A peerage or
-Westminster Abbey!' cried Nelson in his
-bright, boyish, heroic manner. These are great
-incentives; not for any of these, but for the
-plain satisfaction of living, of being about their
-business in some sort or other, do the brave,
-serviceable men of every nation tread down
-the nettle danger, and pass flyingly over all
-the stumbling-blocks of prudence." (<i>Virginibus
-Puerisque.</i>)
-</p>
-
-<p><br /></p>
-
-<p>
-The tramp of horse-hoofs, the clank of the
-capstan, the door ajar&mdash;a thousand sights and
-sounds were but symbolisms to him of some
-mysterious by-way of adventure to be followed
-up, quick with latent possibilities of romance;
-and from one word, one name, he could evolve
-a whole intricate plot. With the simplest of
-sentences, he could electrify the startled reader,
-as when in <i>The Wrecker</i>, where the desperate
-castaways sit gambling on the desert island, and
-one suddenly cries aloud, "Sail ho!"
-</p>
-
-<p>
-"All turned at the cry,&mdash;and there, in the
-wild light of the morning, heading straight for
-Midway Reef, was the brig <i>Flying Scud</i> of
-Hull." (<i>The Wrecker.</i>)
-</p>
-
-<p><br /></p>
-
-<p>
-On that moment the whole tale hangs as on
-a pivot. All its involution and evolution, all
-its intricate and tangled clues, lead&mdash;backwards
-or forwards&mdash;to this one swift breathless sight.
-</p>
-
-<p>
-His morning's work accomplished, the tall
-gaunt man came downstairs, literally to play
-awhile. After weeks, it might be, of enforced
-seclusion in his room, his eye rested pleasurably
-upon the various attractive objects which
-almost seemed like new to him. Stevenson,&mdash;the
-avowed evader of personal property, the
-rolling-stone that had so long refused to gather
-moss,&mdash;was now, under a woman's tender
-surveillance, surrounded with charm and comfort.
-"Our drawing room," he maintained, "is a
-place so beautiful that it's like eating to sit
-down in it. No other room is so lovely in the
-world ... I blush for the figure I cut in such
-a bower." The garden, Mrs. Stevenson's
-special pleasure, but one in which her husband
-did not share, was very lovely, with a lawn,
-and heather-bank, and a half-acre of land,
-where a little stream ran down a "chine" full
-of rhododendrons. A large dovecot figured in
-the garden; and there also "Boguey," the
-Stevensons' dog, was buried, to whom no other
-dog had ever been deemed a worthy successor.
-</p>
-
-<p>
-Stevenson, his clothes hanging loosely on
-his emaciated figure, and his hands&mdash;"wonderful
-hands&mdash;long and fragile, like those in the
-early portraits of Velasquez," lingered lovingly
-over the keys. For a while he amused himself
-by picking out, note by note, the old-world
-dance measures of Lully and Rameau; those
-gavottes, rigadoons and minuets, which
-conveyed to him the indefinable <i>pot-pourri</i>-like,
-flavour of his favourite eighteenth century,
-embued with a certain stately dignity, "the
-periwig feeling," he called it, as of lords and
-ladies treading courtly measures. Stevenson
-was passionately fond of classical music, but he
-had never attained to any facility of execution.
-And when he grew tired with his efforts as an
-interpreter of Lully, he turned to "pickling," as
-he called it&mdash;composing, that is to say, after a
-fashion, with "the manly and melodious
-forefinger." The fact that he had invariably failed
-to master the rudiments of theory, in no wise
-deterred him; on the contrary, difficulties
-rather enhanced his delight. "Books are of
-no use," he avowed, "they tell you how to
-write in four parts, and that cannot be done
-by man." So he continued to "pickle" with
-a light heart, and to enjoy consecutive fifths
-and other theoretical delinquencies with an
-enthusiasm worthy of the most modern composer.
-</p>
-
-<p>
-Nothing but the lunch hour brought his
-musical experiments to a close. Stevenson,
-who had, in his own words, "been obliged to
-strip himself, one after another, of all the
-pleasures that he had chosen, except smoking"
-(and indeed, he was smoking cigarettes all day
-long) by no means disdained the pleasures of
-the table. Not, perhaps, in the role of a
-gourmet&mdash;but as an artist in the more recondite
-delicacies of taste and smell. "To detect the
-flavour of an olive is no less a piece of human
-perfection than to find beauty in the colours of
-a sunset," he observed; he coupled the flavour
-of wine with the beauty of the dawn, and
-declared that we do not recognise at its full
-value the great part in life that is played by
-eating and drinking. "There is a romance
-about the matter after all," he observed.
-"Probably the table has more devotees than love;
-and I am sure food is more generally
-entertaining than scenery." It was the "romance of
-the matter" that appealed to him; especially
-the colour, and savour, and poetical tradition
-of wine. "Books, and tobacco jars, and some
-old Burgundy as red as a November sunset,
-and as fragrant as a violet in April"&mdash;these,
-he thought, should suffice the most luxurious.
-</p>
-
-<p>
-After lunch, if he anticipated an exhausting
-evening, he went to sleep&mdash;at a moment's
-notice&mdash;and after a short, sound repose, was
-as eager as ever to resume his pianoforte
-amusements; which he continued until friends
-arrived.
-</p>
-
-<p>
-At the age of four-and-twenty, Stevenson
-had noted down his three chief wishes. "First,
-good health: secondly, a small competence:
-thirdly, <i>O Du lieber Gott!</i> friends." The first:
-wish was irrevocably denied: the second was
-only just beginning to be granted, the guerdon
-of unresting toil: the third petition had been
-abundantly answered. Never was a man more
-happy in his friends; or one who made them so
-instantaneously and without effort. "He had
-only to speak," said one friend, "in order to
-be recognised in the first minute for a witty
-and charming gentleman, and in the second,
-for a man of genius." Some, indeed, like
-Mr. Edmund Gosse, came home dazzled and
-astounded, saying, as Constance does of Arthur,
-"Was ever such a gracious creature born?" His
-expression, of mingled tenderness and
-mirth, his "scholarly and eclectic
-presence"&mdash;together with his picturesque, velvet-coated
-appearance, and his flashing flow of words,
-combined to make a man so attractive and so
-unique as could command all love at will. And
-the friends were very many and very notable,
-who haunted Skerryvore. First and foremost
-was "Bob," Mr. R. A. M. Stevenson, the
-poet's first cousin, the brilliant art critic: "the
-man likest and most unlike to me," as
-R.L.S. described him. "Bob's" sister, Mrs. de Mattos,
-and her child were frequent visitors; then there
-were celebrities from London: such as Sargent
-the painter, William Archer, Sidney Colvin,
-W. E. Henley, Henry James; and again
-friends residing in the neighbourhood of
-Bournemouth; the poet Sir Henry Taylor, and his
-family; Sir Percy Shelley and his wife. These
-latter, indeed, regarded Stevenson almost in the
-light of a son. He struck them as bearing an
-extraordinary resemblance to Percy Bysshe
-Shelley; less, perhaps, in lineaments than in
-figure and in mind; and in consequence of this
-similarity, they held him very dear.
-</p>
-
-<p>
-But to all he was the same bewildering
-charming host, the man who variously displayed,
-to quote W. E. Henley:
-</p>
-
-<p class="poem">
- "A deal of Ariel, just a streak of Puck,<br />
- Much Antony, of Hamlet most of all,&mdash;"<br />
-</p>
-
-<p class="noindent">
-And combined with these curiously versatile
-fruits, "something of the Shorter Catechist."
-</p>
-
-<p>
-Generous in criticism, kind in praise, grave
-and humorous in rapid transition, the amazing
-scope and variety of Stevenson's writings were
-excelled by the scope and variety of his talk.
-"There was no part of the writer that was not
-visibly present in the man." (Graham Balfour.) He
-had laid down his opinion that "there can
-be no fairer ambition than to excel in talk; to
-be affable, gay, ready, clear and welcome." But
-none save those who were privileged to
-hear him, as with quick, impetuous gestures,
-like a Southern foreigner, he emphasised his
-phrases, could realise the power, the versatility,
-the inexpressible, irrepressible charm with
-which the author could fulfil his "fair ambition."
-</p>
-
-<p>
-When the visitors had severally taken
-their departure, the strong resonant voice,
-with its Scottish accent and rich, full tones still
-ringing in their ears,&mdash;Stevenson had suffered
-no abatement in the stream of his exuberant
-mental vitality. The excitement of
-conversation had, if anything, keyed him up; and
-presently, for the writing of a few unavoidable
-letters, he betook himself to his study; "the
-study where a smiling God beholds each day
-my stage of labour trod," and sate himself
-down there with reluctance.
-</p>
-
-<p><br /></p>
-
-<p class="noindent">
-<i>Painting by W. Hatherell.</i>
-</p>
-
-<p class="noindent">
-"All turned at the cry, and there in the wild<br />
-light of the morning heaving straight for<br />
-midway reef was the brig <i>Flying Scud</i> of<br />
-Hull."
-</p>
-
-<p class="noindent">
-<i>The Wrecker.</i>
-</p>
-
-<p><br /></p>
-
-<p class="capcenter">
-<a id="img-030-t"></a>
-<a href="images/img-030.jpg">
-<img class="imgcenter" src="images/img-030-t.jpg" alt="The Wrecker" />
-</a>
-<br />
-<i>The Wrecker</i>
-</p>
-
-<p><br /></p>
-
-<p>
-Correspondence, as a rule, he found but an
-irksome affair; unless conducted upon his own
-whimsical lines. "I deny that letters should
-contain news&mdash;I mean mine&mdash;those of other
-people should," was his theory; and he boasted
-himself of a "willingness to pour forth unmitigated
-rot, which constitutes in me the true spirit
-of correspondence." For all that, his letters,
-grave or gay, remain among the most delightful
-reading in existence; flavoured with his
-quaintest conceits, endowed with his most
-delicate turns of phrase, and often tempered
-with that "something of the Shorter Catechist"
-to which Henley had alluded.
-</p>
-
-<p>
-For, undoubtedly, as time went on,
-although Stevenson continued to "combine the
-face of a boy with the distinguished bearing
-of a man of the world," he was gradually
-exchanging the "streak of Puck" and
-the capricious unconventions of the born
-Bohemian, for something graver and more
-mature,&mdash;a tendency almost towards the
-didactic. "'Tis a strange world indeed," he
-had commented, "but there is a manifest God
-for those who care to look for Him." And
-now, "with the passing of years," he observed,
-"there grows more and more upon me that
-belief in the kindness of this scheme of things,
-and the goodness of our veiled God, which is an
-excellent and pacifying compensation." He
-was suffering, and in all probability would
-perpetually suffer, from "that sharp ferule of
-calamity under which we are all God's scholars
-till we die": but his patience was impregnable,
-and his desire to leave a brave example bore
-him constant company. "To suffer," said he,
-"sets a keen edge on what remains of the
-agreeable," and he prepared to enjoy with
-equal zest all pleasures which were still
-permitted to him.
-</p>
-
-<p>
-As he put away his writing materials, and
-descended once more to his beloved piano, his
-father and mother came in. They were living
-in Bournemouth to be near their only son.
-The old lighthouse engineer, whose father had
-built the Bell Rock, who had served under his
-brother Alan in the building of Skerryvore,
-"the noblest of all extant sea-lights," who had
-himself erected Dhu Heartach, was now palpably
-failing. The spectacle of a stern and
-honest man slowly evacuating all that he had
-held of personal strength, was, to his son Louis,
-a poignantly pathetic one. Their disagreements
-had been very many and deep-rooted,
-dating from even before that "dreadful evening
-walk" in Stevenson's youth, when, "on being
-tightly cross-questioned," the lad who had been
-trained for a civil engineer, and had "worked
-in a carpenter's shop and had a brass foundry,
-and hung about wood-yards and the like," confessed
-that he cared for nothing but literature,&mdash;"no
-profession!" as his father contemptuously
-replied. They had differed on almost
-every conceivable topic open to their discussion,&mdash;yet
-here, in the fulness of time, they were at
-peace together,&mdash;the austere old man in his
-second childhood, and the chronic invalid who
-"must live as though he were walking on
-eggs." Innumerable ineffaceable traits of similarity
-bound one to the other; at bottom of all the
-bygone angers lay a permanent bedrock of
-mutual love. And perhaps the nearing vision
-of death which terminated all vistas for both of
-them, exercised its usual effect, of calm, and
-<i>laisser-faire</i>, and the equalisation of things: for
-it is probable that no man has a just sense of
-proportionate values until he stands in the
-presence of death.
-</p>
-
-<p>
-Stevenson had often alluded, as a matter of
-personal knowledge, to his constant prescience
-of mortality, and how it affected a man's
-thoughts of life. Very seldom has the view of
-the confirmed invalid, the doomed consumptive,
-been put forth to the world with the frankness
-with which Stevenson invested it. He has
-been sometimes charged with a certain lack of
-reticence: but in this matter, unquestionably,
-his candour was to the benefitting of mankind:
-to whom these close views of the inevitable end
-are rarely possible under such deliberate and
-clear-headed conditions.
-</p>
-
-<p>
-There is nothing maudlin, nothing hypochondriacal,
-about Stevenson's treatment of
-this subject: the same cheerful philosophy
-bears him up, the same vitality of joy. It is
-hardly to be wondered at, that some critics
-handled him seriously, on account of his
-lightheartedness in the august shadow of the last
-enemy,&mdash;and his inveterate optimism in the face
-of all calamities. "He jests at scars who never
-felt a wound," they practically told him,&mdash;and
-could hardly be persuaded to credit the paradox
-that the man who preached in season and out of
-season, the gospel of that "cheery old Pagan,
-Hope," was not a denizen of the open-air,&mdash;healthy,
-athletic, vigorous, incapable of realising
-the maladies incident to man,&mdash;instead of an
-emaciated, bed-ridden creature, whose smallest
-pleasures must be measured, so to speak, in a
-medicine-glass. But, "It is something after
-all," he has said, "to leave a brave example":
-and in that he triumphantly succeeded. For
-the opportunities of meteoric heroisms are few
-and far between; but every hour beholds the
-need of those obscurer braveries which may be
-born of pain and suffering....
-</p>
-
-<p>
-In <i>Ordered South</i> and other well-known
-essays, he shows the gradual relaxation of the
-ties which bind a man to terrestrial things,&mdash;and
-the curiously significant alteration in his
-regard for the facts of life,&mdash;from the sower in
-the dank spring furrows, to the sight of little
-children with their long possibilities before them.
-</p>
-
-<p>
-Stevenson had no children of his own.
-His stepson, Lloyd Osbourne, then at school in
-Bournemouth, was destined to become his
-friend and collaborator: but it is doubtful that
-he cared for children as such. The average
-small folk, "dragged about in a pleasing stupor
-by nurses," were very far remote from that
-superabundant vitality nursed in an attenuated
-physique, which had sat up with a shawl over
-its shoulders, so many tedious months in
-childhood, when its principal <i>habitat</i> was "The Land
-of Counterpane" and other regions mapped
-out in the great and glorious world of Make-Believe.
-</p>
-
-<p><br /></p>
-
-<p class="noindent">
-<i>Painting by W. Hatherell.</i>
-</p>
-
-<p class="noindent">
-ST. IVES DESCENDS FROM EDINBURGH CASTLE.
-</p>
-
-<p class="noindent">
-"The whole forces of my mind were so consumed<br />
-with losing hold and getting it again, that I<br />
-could scarce have told whether I was going up<br />
-or coming down."
-</p>
-
-<p class="noindent">
-<i>St. Ives.</i>
-</p>
-
-<p><br /></p>
-
-<p class="capcenter">
-<a id="img-038-t"></a>
-<a href="images/img-038.jpg">
-<img class="imgcenter" src="images/img-038-t.jpg" alt="St. Ives" />
-</a>
-<br />
-<i>St. Ives</i>
-</p>
-
-<p><br /></p>
-
-<p>
-For this reason, the <i>Child's Garden of Verses</i>
-is not, in any real sense of the word, a child's
-book at all. It contains the exquisite
-imaginations of childhood as the grown-up man
-remembers them: to him they have the charm of
-the vanished past, they are the utterances of
-one who has also lived in Arcadia. But to the
-child, they are the very commonplaces of
-existence. To sway to and fro in a swing,
-"the pleasantest thing a child can do,"&mdash;to
-bring home treasures from field and wood, nuts
-and wooden whistles, and some all-precious
-unidentifiable stone, "though father denies it,
-I'm sure it is gold,"&mdash;these are everyday affairs
-to the country-child,&mdash;just as watching the
-lamplighter is to the town child. To read
-verses about them is but a waste of time, when
-one might be actively engaged in similar
-avocations. But to the grown-man who can never
-play with wooden soldiers in the garden, never
-be a pirate any more,&mdash;these reminiscences of
-Stevenson's are a delight unfailing. No one
-else has ever worded them quite so accurately,
-quite so simply: and, taken all for all, they are
-in themselves a summing-up of that most
-excellent philosophy of this author, "The
-world is so full of a number of things, I'm sure
-we should all be as happy as kings!" The
-world was indeed full of a number of things to
-R.L.S. and,&mdash;passed through the crucible of
-his own astonishing personality,&mdash;they were
-all, bad or good, transmogrified into things
-that make for joy.
-</p>
-
-<p>
-After eight o'clock dinner was over, the
-old folks bade good-night,&mdash;the father, with
-touching affection, kissing Louis as though he
-were a child, and murmuring, "You'll see me
-in the morning, dearie," as if still addressing
-that little feeble creature who had been kept
-alive with such difficulty in the old days at
-Edinburgh.
-</p>
-
-<p>
-The younger man returned to the piano-forte;
-it drew him like a magnet. For a short
-time he indulged in his desultory music-making,
-relishing to the uttermost every success of
-sound which he achieved: and the happiness,
-which was his theory of life, radiated in warm
-abundance from his richly-tinted face and
-glowing eyes. "It's a fine life," he exclaimed.
-</p>
-
-<p>
-At last the day's supply of energy succumbed
-before the imperious demands of this
-"fiery threadpaper of a man," and in deference
-to his wife's suggestion he betook himself to bed.
-Not necessarily to rest; for even in his dreams
-his busy brain was working, and his "Brownies,"
-as he termed them, bringing him fresh material
-for plots. <i>Dr. Jekyll</i> had been thus evolved from
-three scenes dreamed successively in detail, from
-which the dreamer waked with cries of horror.
-</p>
-
-<p>
-But he did not flinch before the coming
-night, and anything that it might bring of
-sickness or unrest. He thought alone upon the
-past delightful day, fraught with strenuous work
-and simple pleasures; and he petitioned, in his
-own words:
-</p>
-
-<p class="poem">
- "If I have faltered more or less<br />
- In my great task of happiness;<br />
- If I have moved along my race<br />
- And shown no glorious morning face;<br />
- If beams from happy human eyes<br />
- Have moved me not; if morning skies,<br />
- Books, and my food, and summer rain<br />
- Knocked on my sullen heart in vain:&mdash;<br />
- Lord, Thy most pointed pleasure take<br />
- And stab my spirit broad awake!"<br />
- &nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;(<i>Underwoods.</i>)<br />
-</p>
-
-<p><br /></p>
-
-<p>
-His wife hovered around him with gentle
-ministrations, as suddenly out-wearied, Robert
-Louis Stevenson extended his long, lean form
-to a possible repose. There was not, perhaps,
-a cheerfuller man that night in England.
-</p>
-
-<p>
-The sea hummed at the foot of the chine,
-with that soft and dove-like purring of the
-South-coast sea; the doves made answer with
-a vibrant cooing in the middle distance of the
-twilight garden. Spring buds of pear-trees and
-cherry-trees globed themselves stealthily into
-blossom; a delicate latent energy was
-consciously present in the air&mdash;the rising of sap
-and revivification of seed, all the mysterious
-hidden progresses of April. And the man
-whose ways were set in a perpetual
-convergence towards the doors of death, waved,
-so to speak, a blithe recognition to the myriad
-hosts of life.
-</p>
-
-<p>
-"O toiling hands of mortals! O unwearied
-feet, travelling ye know not whither! Soon,
-soon, it seems to you, you must come forth on
-some conspicuous hilltop, and but a little way
-further, against the setting sun, descry the
-spires of El Dorado. Little do ye know your
-own blessedness; for to travel hopefully is a
-better thing than to arrive, and the true success
-is labour." (<i>Virginibus Puerisque.</i>)
-</p>
-
-<p><br /><br /><br /></p>
-
-<p>
-The author desires to acknowledge the
-kindness of Messrs. Cassell &amp; Co., in allowing
-short extracts to be made from <i>The Master of
-Ballantrae</i>, <i>The Wrecker</i>, and <i>Catriona</i>; also to
-thank Mr. William Heinemann for a similar
-courtesy with regard to <i>St. Ives</i>, and
-Messrs. Chatto &amp; Windus for their permission to
-include various quotations from <i>Virginibus
-Puerisque</i>, <i>Underwoods</i>, and <i>Prince Otto</i>.
-</p>
-
-<p><br /><br /></p>
-
-<p class="t4">
- Printed by The Bushey Colour Press (André &amp; Sleigh, Ltd.),<br />
- Bushey, Herts., England.<br />
-</p>
-
-<p><br /><br /></p>
-
-<p class="capcenter">
-<a id="img-cover-r"></a>
-<img class="imgcenter" src="images/img-cover-r.jpg" alt="Rear cover" />
-<br />
-Rear cover
-</p>
-
-<p><br /><br /><br /><br /></p>
-
-
-
-
-
-
-
-
-<pre>
-
-
-
-
-
-End of Project Gutenberg's A Day with Robert Louis Stevenson, by Maurice Clare
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+The Project Gutenberg E-text of A Day with Robert Louis Stevenson,
+by Maurice Clare
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+<div>*** START OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK 53165 ***</div>
+
+<p><br /><br /></p>
+
+<p class="capcenter">
+<a id="img-cover-f"></a>
+<img class="imgcenter" src="images/img-cover-f.jpg" alt="Cover art" />
+<br />
+Cover art
+</p>
+
+<p><br /><br /></p>
+
+<p class="capcenter">
+<a id="img-000"></a>
+<img class="imgcenter" src="images/img-000.jpg" alt="Robert Louis Stevenson" />
+<br />
+Robert Louis Stevenson
+</p>
+
+<p><br /><br /></p>
+
+<p class="noindent">
+<i>Painting by W. Hatherell.</i>
+</p>
+
+<p class="noindent">
+"Took down the folds of her hair&mdash;shook it<br />
+round her face and the pool repeated her<br />
+thus veiled."
+</p>
+
+<p class="noindent">
+<i>Prince Otto.</i>
+</p>
+
+<p><br /></p>
+
+<p class="capcenter">
+<a id="img-front-t"></a>
+<a href="images/img-front.jpg">
+<img class="imgcenter" src="images/img-front-t.jpg" alt="Prince Otto" />
+</a>
+<br />
+<i>Prince Otto</i>
+</p>
+
+<h1>
+<br /><br />
+ A DAY WITH<br />
+ ROBERT LOUIS<br />
+ STEVENSON<br />
+</h1>
+
+<p><br /></p>
+
+<p class="t2b">
+ BY MAURICE CLARE<br />
+</p>
+
+<p><br /><br /></p>
+
+<p class="t2">
+ LONDON<br />
+ HODDER &amp; STOUGHTON<br />
+ 1910<br />
+</p>
+
+<p><br /><br /><br /></p>
+
+<p class="noindent">
+ <i>In the same Series.<br />
+ &nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;Dickens.<br />
+ &nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;Thackeray.</i><br />
+</p>
+
+<p><br /><br /><br /></p>
+
+<p><a id="chap01"></a></p>
+
+<h3>
+A DAY WITH STEVENSON.
+</h3>
+
+<p><br /></p>
+
+<p>
+Supposing that in the month
+of April, 1886, you had arrived,
+a guest foreseen, at the pleasant
+ivy-muffled dwelling in Bournemouth,
+which had recently adopted
+the name of Skerryvore, and
+that you had been permitted to
+enter its doors&mdash;you might account yourself a
+somewhat favoured person. For the master
+of the house, "that rickety and cloistered
+spectre," as he termed himself, the "pallid
+brute who lived in Skerryvore like a weevil
+in a biscuit," might be invisible for the
+nonce&mdash;shut upstairs, forbidden even to speak for
+fear of inducing hemorrhage. Or again, you
+might yourself be afflicted with an obvious
+cold: in which case you would not be admitted
+into his presence, lest you left contagion of
+that cold.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+But if fate befriended you, you would
+chance upon the most remarkable personality,
+it might be, that you had yet encountered. A
+lean, long flat-chested man, gracefully emphatic
+of gesture&mdash;pacing up and down the room as he
+talked&mdash;burning with hectic energy&mdash;a man of
+rich brown tints in hair and eyes and skin:
+mutable, mirthful, brilliant&mdash;above all "vital,"
+as he had described himself, "wholly vital with
+a buoyance of life" which had upborne him
+hitherto over the crest of most tumultuous distresses.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+Robert Louis Stevenson was now thirty-six
+years old: and ever since his sixth year, when,
+as his mother recorded in her diary, he dreamed
+that he "heard the noise of pens writing," his
+aim had been set unswervingly toward the one
+goal. Born of a strong and strenuous family,
+the great lighthouse builders of the north, he
+was not, like them, intent upon the subjugation
+of obstinate stone, the ordering and ordaining
+of rocks and seas. Dhu Heartach and the Bell
+Rock and Skerryvore he could admire at a
+distance: but the material which cried aloud to
+him for mastery, was much more plastic,&mdash;yet,
+to him, no less stubborn. "I imagine," he
+declared, "nobody ever had such pains to learn
+a trade as I had; but I slogged at it day in and
+day out." His fastidious soul refused to be
+contented with a facile and slipshod utterance.
+A passionate quest: after <i>le mot propre</i>, which had
+led him, in his own phrase, to "play the sedulus
+ape" to all the great prose writers of the
+past&mdash;and a sense of style such as no man had ever so
+anxiously and assiduously developed in
+himself&mdash;these had achieved their own reward.
+"'Thanks to my dire industry," said Stevenson,
+"I have done more with smaller gifts than
+almost any man of letters in the world."
+</p>
+
+<p>
+And this was a just pride: for there was
+no branch of literature in which he could not
+admirably acquit himself. So many years a
+struggler in obscurity, with small hopes, few
+successes, little encouragement&mdash;battling with
+continuous and crippling maladies,&mdash;this
+indomitable artist, by sheer dint of "dire industry,"
+now suddenly stood forth in full blaze of
+public recognition. The author of <i>Virginibus
+Puerisque</i>, <i>Treasure Island</i>, <i>Prince Otto</i>, <i>The Child's
+Garden of Verse</i>, and <i>Dr. Jekyll</i>, was very much
+a man to be reckoned with.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+Probably few modern books have met with
+such instantaneous and triumphant success as
+<i>Treasure Island</i> and <i>Dr. Jekyll</i>. The first, after
+running its course, unannounced and comparatively
+unrecognized, the serial of an obscure
+author, in <i>Young Folks' Paper</i>, was published
+in book form,&mdash;and Stevenson, like Byron,
+"awoke to find himself famous." The honours
+which he had failed to obtain with all the
+dainty humour, all the valiant fatalism, of
+<i>Virginibus Puerisque</i>, had been accorded
+without stint to <i>Treasure Island</i>. It was a tense
+and stimulating piece of pure adventure. The
+authentic air of the eighteenth century breathed
+through every sentence of it: and its fine
+flavour of dare-devil romance kindled even
+sober statesmen, such as Mr. Gladstone, to a
+very furore of avidity in devouring its
+breathless pages.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+As for <i>Dr. Jekyll</i>, that gruesome
+work&mdash;literally the product of a nightmare&mdash;had been
+quoted in pulpits, discussed in newspapers, read
+by everybody,&mdash;it had taken the world by
+storm. Yet Stevenson's head was not turned
+by his tardily-won success: with his customary
+<i>sang froid</i>, he took things as they came, failures
+and triumphs, and met each alike with smiling gallantry.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+The motives which had led him into authorship&mdash;or
+rather forced him, despite all stress
+and hindrance of froward circumstances,&mdash;were
+as curiously varied as his own nature; and it
+was these motives which still drove him hard
+and incessantly. To fame he was perhaps not
+wholly indifferent. No author sits so austerely
+aloft as to disdain popular applause altogether.
+Yet a born stylist and a conscious artist, like
+Stevenson, knew that his most finished work
+was above and beyond the appreciation of the
+general public. For money,&mdash;though it was a
+necessity of life to him, and although, with all
+his recent triumphs, he was not at present
+earning more than £400 a year,&mdash;for money he
+did not care, except as a means to an end.
+"Wealth is only useful for two things," he
+said, "a yacht and a string quartet. Except
+for these, I hold that £700 a year is as much as
+a man can possibly want." Still, in declaring,
+"I do not write for the public," he added with
+engaging candour, "I do write for money, a
+nobler deity," and this, to a certain extent was
+true. It was for money only, no doubt, that he
+was now undertaking, against the grain, that
+"romance of tushery," <i>The Black Arrow</i>, a tale
+with a mediæval setting in which he felt himself
+ill at ease. But "most of all," he allowed, "I
+write for myself; not perhaps any more noble,
+but both more intelligent and nearer home."
+</p>
+
+<p>
+And that a man in such difficulties of health
+and finance, and so precarious a position, should
+have the courage of his own determined artistry,
+was in itself sufficiently remarkable: but the
+result more than justified his choice.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+All the morning, Stevenson had been
+upstairs writing: probably after a bad night;
+very likely in what any other man would term
+a totally unfit condition. Under any and all
+circumstances, he continued to write unflinchingly;
+racked by coughing, reeling with weakness,
+with his right arm in a sling, and his left
+hand holding the pen,&mdash;sitting up in bed with
+a clinical thermometer in his mouth; and yet,
+as he declared, "I like my life all the same
+... I should bear false witness if I did not
+declare life happy." ... He was, in his own
+words, "made for a contest, and the powers
+have so willed that my battlefield should be
+this dingy, inglorious one of the bed and the
+physic bottle."
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"To declare life happy," became, in fact,
+his literary mission,&mdash;the condensed philosophy
+of his gay, inveterate courage. "I believe that
+literature should give joy," was his maxim,
+"one dank, dispirited word is harmful,&mdash;a
+crime of <i>lèse-humanité</i>." This brave and cheerful
+outlook is evident in all his essays,&mdash;it is,
+so to speak, a glorified and artistic
+Mark-Tapleyism, all-pervading, unimpugnable, ready
+to survive the most malevolent accidents of
+life, the crowning tragedy of death itself. And
+so you find the "chronic sickist," as he termed
+himself, still ready, in all but body, for great
+risks and inspiriting adventures, and&mdash;through
+a mist of pain&mdash;leading forlorn hopes with a
+waving sword of flame. You hear him
+proclaiming that:
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"All who have meant good work with their
+whole hearts, have done good work, although
+they may die before they have the time to sign
+it. Every heart that has beat strong and
+cheerfully has left a hopeful impulse behind it
+in the world, and bettered the tradition of
+mankind. And even if death catch people,
+like an open pitfall, and in mid-career, laying
+out vast projects, and planning monstrous
+foundations, flushed with hope, and their
+mouths full of boastful language, they should
+be at once tripped up and silenced; is there
+not something brave and spirited in such a
+termination? and does not life go down with
+a better grace, foaming in full body over a
+precipice, than miserable struggling to an end
+in sandy deltas?" (<i>Virginibus Puerisque</i>.)
+</p>
+
+<p>
+And to him, above all, applied his own
+triumphant lines, those which he addressed to
+W. E. Henley, another writer, a man of like
+courageous outlook, who, like himself, "in the
+fell grip of circumstances, had not winced nor
+cried aloud:
+</p>
+
+<p class="poem">
+ "... Small the pipe; but oh! do thou,<br />
+ Peak-faced and suffering piper, blow therein<br />
+ The dirge of heroes dead; and to these sick,<br />
+ These dying, sound the triumph over death.<br />
+ Behold! each greatly breathes; each tastes a joy<br />
+ Unknown before in dying; for each knows<br />
+ A hero dies with him&mdash;though unfulfilled,<br />
+ Yet conquering truly&mdash;and not dies in vain."<br />
+</p>
+
+<p><br /></p>
+
+<p>
+At present he was engaged upon <i>Kidnapped</i>,
+that admirable piece of fiction which he had
+begun, "partly as a lark and partly as a
+pot-boiler." It was a relief, after the concentrated
+horror of <i>Dr. Jekyll</i>, to escape into the Scottish
+heather-scent and to feel the salt sea-wind
+whistling through the cordage of <i>Kidnapped</i>.
+</p>
+
+<p><br /></p>
+
+<p class="noindent">
+<i>Painting by W. Hatherell.</i>
+</p>
+
+<p class="noindent">
+"She stood on the bulwarks and held on by a<br />
+stay, the wind blowing in her petticoats.
+</p>
+
+<p class="noindent">
+<i>Catriona.</i>
+</p>
+
+<p><br /></p>
+
+<p class="capcenter">
+<a id="img-012-t"></a>
+<a href="images/img-012.jpg">
+<img class="imgcenter" src="images/img-012-t.jpg" alt="Catriona" />
+</a>
+<br />
+<i>Catriona</i>
+</p>
+
+<p><br /></p>
+
+<p>
+Stevenson was desirous to "get free of this
+prison-yard of the abominably ugly, where I
+take my daily exercise with my contemporaries." Possibly
+he recognised that the amazing
+popularity of <i>Jekyll</i> had been due to the morbid
+attractiveness of its subject, rather than to its
+merits of craftsmanship; for, as he had averred,
+"I know that good work sometimes hits; but,
+with my hand on my heart, I think it is an
+accident." But now he was at liberty to give
+play to his infinite variety upon a true boys'
+book,&mdash;a story to satisfy the inveterate
+boyishness of his own heart. "Of the romance of
+boyhood and adolescence, it has been said, he
+is an unsurpassed master ... the philosophy
+of life developed in both his essays and romances
+is that rather of a gifted boy than a mature
+man." (J. W. Mackail.) And even the girls
+of Stevenson's imagination have been accused
+of being "boys in petticoats." The phrase has
+reason. "I have never admired a girl," he
+wrote, and again, "I have never pleased
+myself with any women of mine." The other sex
+remained for him, throughout, a mystery which
+he hardly cared to solve,&mdash;a sealed book which
+he was not desirous to open. "Of the two
+eternal factors in the destiny of man, warfare
+and love," although he allowed that "to love
+is the great amulet which makes the world a
+garden," he preferred to deal almost exclusively
+with the warfare.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+And yet one women had played a very
+important part in Stevenson's life: and it was
+practically with his marriage that the tide of
+his fortunes had changed. His wife,&mdash;"trusty,
+dusky, vivid, true," was his very <i>alter ego</i>: with
+"a character" (to quote Mr. Sidney Colvin)
+"as strong, interesting, and romantic almost
+as his own: an inseparable sharer of all his
+thoughts, the most shrewd and stimulating of
+critics: and in sickness, despite her own
+precarious health, the most devoted and most
+efficient of nurses." To while away the weary
+hours of illness, Mrs. Stevenson made up
+stories to amuse him,&mdash;and subsequently the
+husband and wife would write them out
+together. She, with her "eyes of gold and
+bramble-dew," was literally all-in-all to him as
+companion, helpmate, friend;&mdash;and far&mdash;how
+infinitely far!&mdash;above the ideal wife whom he
+had described so adroitly,&mdash;in his bachelor
+days,&mdash;that woman who should have "a fine
+touch for the affections," and who should at
+least be sufficiently talented to avoid boring her
+life-long comrade. The character of the ideal
+wife, as there indicated,&mdash;apt at gracious
+compromises, possessor of a cheerful fluent
+tongue,&mdash;was very obviously set forth by a man who
+had never yet been stirred by the sharp throbs
+of an imperative emotion. And now that
+Stevenson realised what love in its depth and
+breadth might mean, it held a certain sanctity
+for him,&mdash;he was loth to speak of it, as to write
+of it. It was a marvel that had befallen him
+personally: but for other people, it might still
+perhaps, be no more than that gentle domesticated
+affection which he had portrayed with
+such amiable humour. But there was one
+point in which he, consciously or unconsciously
+insisted, in his <i>desiderata</i> of the female
+character.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"It always warms a man," he had declared,
+"to see a woman brave," and he saw it daily
+in his wife. Therefore it came about, that,
+unversed in women&mdash;as Stevenson unquestionably
+was, he was able to endow his heroines
+with a touch of gallant boyishness, a hint of
+the heroic&mdash;and if they failed in
+flesh-and-blood-<i>vraisemblance</i>,
+they had that "steel-true,
+blade-straight" quality which he adored in the
+women he had chosen.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+You will notice this courageous virtue in
+all of them, rich and poor; from <i>Catriona</i>, that
+"tall, pretty, tender figure of a maiden, when,
+having assured her father's escape from prison
+by a bold stratagem, she arrives a fugitive and
+an exile at Helvoetsluys, and lands from the
+staggering side of the <i>Rose</i> into the little boat
+below;&mdash;when, in David Balfour's words:
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"I began to think I had made a fool's
+bargain, that it was merely impossible Catriona
+should be got on board to me, and that I stood
+to be set ashore in Helvoet all by myself
+... But this was to reckon without the lass's courage
+... Up she stood on the bulwarks and held
+by a stay, the wind blowing in her petticoats,
+which made the enterprise more dangerous,
+and gave us rather more a view of her stockings
+than would be thought genteel in cities"&mdash;(<i>Catriona.</i>)
+</p>
+
+<p class="noindent">
+to Seraphina in <i>Prince Otto</i>, still inherently
+valorous in that desperate flight through the
+forest: where:
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"At length when she was well weary, she
+came upon a wide and shallow pool. Stones
+stood in it, like islands; bulrushes fringed the
+coast; the floor was paved with pine needles;
+and the pines themselves, whose roots made
+promontories, looked down silently on their
+green images. She crept to the margin and
+beheld herself with wonder, a hollow and
+bright-eyed phantom, in the ruins of her palace
+robe ... She addressed herself to make a
+toilette by that forest mirror, washed herself
+pure from all the stains of her adventure, took
+off her jewels and wrapped them in her handkerchief,
+re-arranged the tatters of her dress, and
+took down the folds of her hair. She shook it
+round her face, and the pool repeated her thus
+veiled." (<i>Prince Otto.</i>)
+</p>
+
+<p>
+Clara Huddlestone, in the <i>Pavilion on the
+Links</i>, repeats the same undauntable note: Olalla
+is inexorable in moral courage of renunciation,
+even the weeping Blanche, in the <i>Sieur de
+Malétroit's Door</i>, has the mettle of some small
+creature at bay.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+The charm of Stevenson's heroines is, in
+short, a cold charm; nor does he often accord
+them the assistance of a personal description.
+But they are finely tempered, of the best Toledo
+steel, and owing to their boyish character, there
+is no very obvious gap in those novels where
+they are conspicuously absent, such as <i>The Ebb
+Tide</i>, <i>The Wreckers</i>, and <i>The Master of Ballantrae</i>.
+In the latter, indeed, there is a slight "female
+interest," but a stronger personality in the
+heroine must inevitably have changed or
+coloured the whole course of the book: and
+one cannot but detect a certain vacuum, where
+at least some emotion might have lifted a
+haggard head, in the character of Mrs. Henry,&mdash;even
+in that scene, surcharged with hidden
+explosive possibilities, when the author
+describes how:
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"The Master played upon that little ballad,
+and upon those who heard him, like an instrument,
+and seemed now upon the point of failing,
+and now to conquer his distress, so that the
+words and music seemed to pour out of his own
+heart and his own past, and to be aimed directly
+at Mrs. Henry.... When it came to an end
+we all sat silent for a time: he had chosen the
+dusk of the afternoon, so that none could see
+his neighbour's face: but it seemed as if we
+held our breathing: only my old lord cleared
+his throat. The first to move was the singer,
+who got to his feet suddenly and softly, and
+went and walked softly to and fro in the low
+end of the hall." (<i>The Master of Ballantrae.</i>)
+</p>
+
+<p><br /></p>
+
+<p>
+But Mrs. Henry plays a very minor part
+in the marring or making, here, of two men's
+lives: it is a rôle of <i>vis inertiæ</i> at best. And,
+indeed, when all is said, what shall a petticoat
+be if not irrelevant, among the clash of steel
+and smoke of pistols, in an atmosphere
+permeated by Spanish doubloons or illicit piratical
+treasure? Stevenson's infallible artistic
+instinct led him to keep the adventure-story
+pendant upon the deeds of men, and the eager
+mistakes of boys; and a certain curious
+penchant for the squalid, the submerged, the
+picturesque, brought him by choice into such
+company as no heroine should enter&mdash;that of
+Villon, for instance, and John Silver, and
+Herrick the cockney vagabond. "The spice
+of life is battle," he said; and his life, and his
+books, were brimful of battles with foes or
+with fortune.
+</p>
+
+<p><br /></p>
+
+<p class="noindent">
+<i>Painting by W. Hatherell.</i>
+</p>
+
+<p class="noindent">
+"'The words and music seemed to pour out of<br />
+his own heart and his own past and to be<br />
+aimed directly at Mrs. Henry."
+</p>
+
+<p class="noindent">
+<i>Master of Ballantrae.</i>
+</p>
+
+<p><br /></p>
+
+<p class="capcenter">
+<a id="img-020-t"></a>
+<a href="images/img-020.jpg">
+<img class="imgcenter" src="images/img-020-t.jpg" alt="Master of Ballantrae" />
+</a>
+<br />
+<i>Master of Ballantrae</i>
+</p>
+
+<p><br /></p>
+
+<p>
+The open-air life which he had perforce
+abandoned, the joy of physical strength and
+hair-breadth 'scape, could still be his by proxy.
+He revelled in delineating his ideal man:
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"Being a true lover of living, a fellow with
+something pushing and spontaneous in his inside,
+he must, like any other soldier, in any other
+stirring, deadly warfare, push on at his best
+pace until he touch the goal. 'A peerage or
+Westminster Abbey!' cried Nelson in his
+bright, boyish, heroic manner. These are great
+incentives; not for any of these, but for the
+plain satisfaction of living, of being about their
+business in some sort or other, do the brave,
+serviceable men of every nation tread down
+the nettle danger, and pass flyingly over all
+the stumbling-blocks of prudence." (<i>Virginibus
+Puerisque.</i>)
+</p>
+
+<p><br /></p>
+
+<p>
+The tramp of horse-hoofs, the clank of the
+capstan, the door ajar&mdash;a thousand sights and
+sounds were but symbolisms to him of some
+mysterious by-way of adventure to be followed
+up, quick with latent possibilities of romance;
+and from one word, one name, he could evolve
+a whole intricate plot. With the simplest of
+sentences, he could electrify the startled reader,
+as when in <i>The Wrecker</i>, where the desperate
+castaways sit gambling on the desert island, and
+one suddenly cries aloud, "Sail ho!"
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"All turned at the cry,&mdash;and there, in the
+wild light of the morning, heading straight for
+Midway Reef, was the brig <i>Flying Scud</i> of
+Hull." (<i>The Wrecker.</i>)
+</p>
+
+<p><br /></p>
+
+<p>
+On that moment the whole tale hangs as on
+a pivot. All its involution and evolution, all
+its intricate and tangled clues, lead&mdash;backwards
+or forwards&mdash;to this one swift breathless sight.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+His morning's work accomplished, the tall
+gaunt man came downstairs, literally to play
+awhile. After weeks, it might be, of enforced
+seclusion in his room, his eye rested pleasurably
+upon the various attractive objects which
+almost seemed like new to him. Stevenson,&mdash;the
+avowed evader of personal property, the
+rolling-stone that had so long refused to gather
+moss,&mdash;was now, under a woman's tender
+surveillance, surrounded with charm and comfort.
+"Our drawing room," he maintained, "is a
+place so beautiful that it's like eating to sit
+down in it. No other room is so lovely in the
+world ... I blush for the figure I cut in such
+a bower." The garden, Mrs. Stevenson's
+special pleasure, but one in which her husband
+did not share, was very lovely, with a lawn,
+and heather-bank, and a half-acre of land,
+where a little stream ran down a "chine" full
+of rhododendrons. A large dovecot figured in
+the garden; and there also "Boguey," the
+Stevensons' dog, was buried, to whom no other
+dog had ever been deemed a worthy successor.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+Stevenson, his clothes hanging loosely on
+his emaciated figure, and his hands&mdash;"wonderful
+hands&mdash;long and fragile, like those in the
+early portraits of Velasquez," lingered lovingly
+over the keys. For a while he amused himself
+by picking out, note by note, the old-world
+dance measures of Lully and Rameau; those
+gavottes, rigadoons and minuets, which
+conveyed to him the indefinable <i>pot-pourri</i>-like,
+flavour of his favourite eighteenth century,
+embued with a certain stately dignity, "the
+periwig feeling," he called it, as of lords and
+ladies treading courtly measures. Stevenson
+was passionately fond of classical music, but he
+had never attained to any facility of execution.
+And when he grew tired with his efforts as an
+interpreter of Lully, he turned to "pickling," as
+he called it&mdash;composing, that is to say, after a
+fashion, with "the manly and melodious
+forefinger." The fact that he had invariably failed
+to master the rudiments of theory, in no wise
+deterred him; on the contrary, difficulties
+rather enhanced his delight. "Books are of
+no use," he avowed, "they tell you how to
+write in four parts, and that cannot be done
+by man." So he continued to "pickle" with
+a light heart, and to enjoy consecutive fifths
+and other theoretical delinquencies with an
+enthusiasm worthy of the most modern composer.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+Nothing but the lunch hour brought his
+musical experiments to a close. Stevenson,
+who had, in his own words, "been obliged to
+strip himself, one after another, of all the
+pleasures that he had chosen, except smoking"
+(and indeed, he was smoking cigarettes all day
+long) by no means disdained the pleasures of
+the table. Not, perhaps, in the role of a
+gourmet&mdash;but as an artist in the more recondite
+delicacies of taste and smell. "To detect the
+flavour of an olive is no less a piece of human
+perfection than to find beauty in the colours of
+a sunset," he observed; he coupled the flavour
+of wine with the beauty of the dawn, and
+declared that we do not recognise at its full
+value the great part in life that is played by
+eating and drinking. "There is a romance
+about the matter after all," he observed.
+"Probably the table has more devotees than love;
+and I am sure food is more generally
+entertaining than scenery." It was the "romance of
+the matter" that appealed to him; especially
+the colour, and savour, and poetical tradition
+of wine. "Books, and tobacco jars, and some
+old Burgundy as red as a November sunset,
+and as fragrant as a violet in April"&mdash;these,
+he thought, should suffice the most luxurious.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+After lunch, if he anticipated an exhausting
+evening, he went to sleep&mdash;at a moment's
+notice&mdash;and after a short, sound repose, was
+as eager as ever to resume his pianoforte
+amusements; which he continued until friends
+arrived.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+At the age of four-and-twenty, Stevenson
+had noted down his three chief wishes. "First,
+good health: secondly, a small competence:
+thirdly, <i>O Du lieber Gott!</i> friends." The first:
+wish was irrevocably denied: the second was
+only just beginning to be granted, the guerdon
+of unresting toil: the third petition had been
+abundantly answered. Never was a man more
+happy in his friends; or one who made them so
+instantaneously and without effort. "He had
+only to speak," said one friend, "in order to
+be recognised in the first minute for a witty
+and charming gentleman, and in the second,
+for a man of genius." Some, indeed, like
+Mr. Edmund Gosse, came home dazzled and
+astounded, saying, as Constance does of Arthur,
+"Was ever such a gracious creature born?" His
+expression, of mingled tenderness and
+mirth, his "scholarly and eclectic
+presence"&mdash;together with his picturesque, velvet-coated
+appearance, and his flashing flow of words,
+combined to make a man so attractive and so
+unique as could command all love at will. And
+the friends were very many and very notable,
+who haunted Skerryvore. First and foremost
+was "Bob," Mr. R. A. M. Stevenson, the
+poet's first cousin, the brilliant art critic: "the
+man likest and most unlike to me," as
+R.L.S. described him. "Bob's" sister, Mrs. de Mattos,
+and her child were frequent visitors; then there
+were celebrities from London: such as Sargent
+the painter, William Archer, Sidney Colvin,
+W. E. Henley, Henry James; and again
+friends residing in the neighbourhood of
+Bournemouth; the poet Sir Henry Taylor, and his
+family; Sir Percy Shelley and his wife. These
+latter, indeed, regarded Stevenson almost in the
+light of a son. He struck them as bearing an
+extraordinary resemblance to Percy Bysshe
+Shelley; less, perhaps, in lineaments than in
+figure and in mind; and in consequence of this
+similarity, they held him very dear.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+But to all he was the same bewildering
+charming host, the man who variously displayed,
+to quote W. E. Henley:
+</p>
+
+<p class="poem">
+ "A deal of Ariel, just a streak of Puck,<br />
+ Much Antony, of Hamlet most of all,&mdash;"<br />
+</p>
+
+<p class="noindent">
+And combined with these curiously versatile
+fruits, "something of the Shorter Catechist."
+</p>
+
+<p>
+Generous in criticism, kind in praise, grave
+and humorous in rapid transition, the amazing
+scope and variety of Stevenson's writings were
+excelled by the scope and variety of his talk.
+"There was no part of the writer that was not
+visibly present in the man." (Graham Balfour.) He
+had laid down his opinion that "there can
+be no fairer ambition than to excel in talk; to
+be affable, gay, ready, clear and welcome." But
+none save those who were privileged to
+hear him, as with quick, impetuous gestures,
+like a Southern foreigner, he emphasised his
+phrases, could realise the power, the versatility,
+the inexpressible, irrepressible charm with
+which the author could fulfil his "fair ambition."
+</p>
+
+<p>
+When the visitors had severally taken
+their departure, the strong resonant voice,
+with its Scottish accent and rich, full tones still
+ringing in their ears,&mdash;Stevenson had suffered
+no abatement in the stream of his exuberant
+mental vitality. The excitement of
+conversation had, if anything, keyed him up; and
+presently, for the writing of a few unavoidable
+letters, he betook himself to his study; "the
+study where a smiling God beholds each day
+my stage of labour trod," and sate himself
+down there with reluctance.
+</p>
+
+<p><br /></p>
+
+<p class="noindent">
+<i>Painting by W. Hatherell.</i>
+</p>
+
+<p class="noindent">
+"All turned at the cry, and there in the wild<br />
+light of the morning heaving straight for<br />
+midway reef was the brig <i>Flying Scud</i> of<br />
+Hull."
+</p>
+
+<p class="noindent">
+<i>The Wrecker.</i>
+</p>
+
+<p><br /></p>
+
+<p class="capcenter">
+<a id="img-030-t"></a>
+<a href="images/img-030.jpg">
+<img class="imgcenter" src="images/img-030-t.jpg" alt="The Wrecker" />
+</a>
+<br />
+<i>The Wrecker</i>
+</p>
+
+<p><br /></p>
+
+<p>
+Correspondence, as a rule, he found but an
+irksome affair; unless conducted upon his own
+whimsical lines. "I deny that letters should
+contain news&mdash;I mean mine&mdash;those of other
+people should," was his theory; and he boasted
+himself of a "willingness to pour forth unmitigated
+rot, which constitutes in me the true spirit
+of correspondence." For all that, his letters,
+grave or gay, remain among the most delightful
+reading in existence; flavoured with his
+quaintest conceits, endowed with his most
+delicate turns of phrase, and often tempered
+with that "something of the Shorter Catechist"
+to which Henley had alluded.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+For, undoubtedly, as time went on,
+although Stevenson continued to "combine the
+face of a boy with the distinguished bearing
+of a man of the world," he was gradually
+exchanging the "streak of Puck" and
+the capricious unconventions of the born
+Bohemian, for something graver and more
+mature,&mdash;a tendency almost towards the
+didactic. "'Tis a strange world indeed," he
+had commented, "but there is a manifest God
+for those who care to look for Him." And
+now, "with the passing of years," he observed,
+"there grows more and more upon me that
+belief in the kindness of this scheme of things,
+and the goodness of our veiled God, which is an
+excellent and pacifying compensation." He
+was suffering, and in all probability would
+perpetually suffer, from "that sharp ferule of
+calamity under which we are all God's scholars
+till we die": but his patience was impregnable,
+and his desire to leave a brave example bore
+him constant company. "To suffer," said he,
+"sets a keen edge on what remains of the
+agreeable," and he prepared to enjoy with
+equal zest all pleasures which were still
+permitted to him.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+As he put away his writing materials, and
+descended once more to his beloved piano, his
+father and mother came in. They were living
+in Bournemouth to be near their only son.
+The old lighthouse engineer, whose father had
+built the Bell Rock, who had served under his
+brother Alan in the building of Skerryvore,
+"the noblest of all extant sea-lights," who had
+himself erected Dhu Heartach, was now palpably
+failing. The spectacle of a stern and
+honest man slowly evacuating all that he had
+held of personal strength, was, to his son Louis,
+a poignantly pathetic one. Their disagreements
+had been very many and deep-rooted,
+dating from even before that "dreadful evening
+walk" in Stevenson's youth, when, "on being
+tightly cross-questioned," the lad who had been
+trained for a civil engineer, and had "worked
+in a carpenter's shop and had a brass foundry,
+and hung about wood-yards and the like," confessed
+that he cared for nothing but literature,&mdash;"no
+profession!" as his father contemptuously
+replied. They had differed on almost
+every conceivable topic open to their discussion,&mdash;yet
+here, in the fulness of time, they were at
+peace together,&mdash;the austere old man in his
+second childhood, and the chronic invalid who
+"must live as though he were walking on
+eggs." Innumerable ineffaceable traits of similarity
+bound one to the other; at bottom of all the
+bygone angers lay a permanent bedrock of
+mutual love. And perhaps the nearing vision
+of death which terminated all vistas for both of
+them, exercised its usual effect, of calm, and
+<i>laisser-faire</i>, and the equalisation of things: for
+it is probable that no man has a just sense of
+proportionate values until he stands in the
+presence of death.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+Stevenson had often alluded, as a matter of
+personal knowledge, to his constant prescience
+of mortality, and how it affected a man's
+thoughts of life. Very seldom has the view of
+the confirmed invalid, the doomed consumptive,
+been put forth to the world with the frankness
+with which Stevenson invested it. He has
+been sometimes charged with a certain lack of
+reticence: but in this matter, unquestionably,
+his candour was to the benefitting of mankind:
+to whom these close views of the inevitable end
+are rarely possible under such deliberate and
+clear-headed conditions.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+There is nothing maudlin, nothing hypochondriacal,
+about Stevenson's treatment of
+this subject: the same cheerful philosophy
+bears him up, the same vitality of joy. It is
+hardly to be wondered at, that some critics
+handled him seriously, on account of his
+lightheartedness in the august shadow of the last
+enemy,&mdash;and his inveterate optimism in the face
+of all calamities. "He jests at scars who never
+felt a wound," they practically told him,&mdash;and
+could hardly be persuaded to credit the paradox
+that the man who preached in season and out of
+season, the gospel of that "cheery old Pagan,
+Hope," was not a denizen of the open-air,&mdash;healthy,
+athletic, vigorous, incapable of realising
+the maladies incident to man,&mdash;instead of an
+emaciated, bed-ridden creature, whose smallest
+pleasures must be measured, so to speak, in a
+medicine-glass. But, "It is something after
+all," he has said, "to leave a brave example":
+and in that he triumphantly succeeded. For
+the opportunities of meteoric heroisms are few
+and far between; but every hour beholds the
+need of those obscurer braveries which may be
+born of pain and suffering....
+</p>
+
+<p>
+In <i>Ordered South</i> and other well-known
+essays, he shows the gradual relaxation of the
+ties which bind a man to terrestrial things,&mdash;and
+the curiously significant alteration in his
+regard for the facts of life,&mdash;from the sower in
+the dank spring furrows, to the sight of little
+children with their long possibilities before them.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+Stevenson had no children of his own.
+His stepson, Lloyd Osbourne, then at school in
+Bournemouth, was destined to become his
+friend and collaborator: but it is doubtful that
+he cared for children as such. The average
+small folk, "dragged about in a pleasing stupor
+by nurses," were very far remote from that
+superabundant vitality nursed in an attenuated
+physique, which had sat up with a shawl over
+its shoulders, so many tedious months in
+childhood, when its principal <i>habitat</i> was "The Land
+of Counterpane" and other regions mapped
+out in the great and glorious world of Make-Believe.
+</p>
+
+<p><br /></p>
+
+<p class="noindent">
+<i>Painting by W. Hatherell.</i>
+</p>
+
+<p class="noindent">
+ST. IVES DESCENDS FROM EDINBURGH CASTLE.
+</p>
+
+<p class="noindent">
+"The whole forces of my mind were so consumed<br />
+with losing hold and getting it again, that I<br />
+could scarce have told whether I was going up<br />
+or coming down."
+</p>
+
+<p class="noindent">
+<i>St. Ives.</i>
+</p>
+
+<p><br /></p>
+
+<p class="capcenter">
+<a id="img-038-t"></a>
+<a href="images/img-038.jpg">
+<img class="imgcenter" src="images/img-038-t.jpg" alt="St. Ives" />
+</a>
+<br />
+<i>St. Ives</i>
+</p>
+
+<p><br /></p>
+
+<p>
+For this reason, the <i>Child's Garden of Verses</i>
+is not, in any real sense of the word, a child's
+book at all. It contains the exquisite
+imaginations of childhood as the grown-up man
+remembers them: to him they have the charm of
+the vanished past, they are the utterances of
+one who has also lived in Arcadia. But to the
+child, they are the very commonplaces of
+existence. To sway to and fro in a swing,
+"the pleasantest thing a child can do,"&mdash;to
+bring home treasures from field and wood, nuts
+and wooden whistles, and some all-precious
+unidentifiable stone, "though father denies it,
+I'm sure it is gold,"&mdash;these are everyday affairs
+to the country-child,&mdash;just as watching the
+lamplighter is to the town child. To read
+verses about them is but a waste of time, when
+one might be actively engaged in similar
+avocations. But to the grown-man who can never
+play with wooden soldiers in the garden, never
+be a pirate any more,&mdash;these reminiscences of
+Stevenson's are a delight unfailing. No one
+else has ever worded them quite so accurately,
+quite so simply: and, taken all for all, they are
+in themselves a summing-up of that most
+excellent philosophy of this author, "The
+world is so full of a number of things, I'm sure
+we should all be as happy as kings!" The
+world was indeed full of a number of things to
+R.L.S. and,&mdash;passed through the crucible of
+his own astonishing personality,&mdash;they were
+all, bad or good, transmogrified into things
+that make for joy.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+After eight o'clock dinner was over, the
+old folks bade good-night,&mdash;the father, with
+touching affection, kissing Louis as though he
+were a child, and murmuring, "You'll see me
+in the morning, dearie," as if still addressing
+that little feeble creature who had been kept
+alive with such difficulty in the old days at
+Edinburgh.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+The younger man returned to the piano-forte;
+it drew him like a magnet. For a short
+time he indulged in his desultory music-making,
+relishing to the uttermost every success of
+sound which he achieved: and the happiness,
+which was his theory of life, radiated in warm
+abundance from his richly-tinted face and
+glowing eyes. "It's a fine life," he exclaimed.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+At last the day's supply of energy succumbed
+before the imperious demands of this
+"fiery threadpaper of a man," and in deference
+to his wife's suggestion he betook himself to bed.
+Not necessarily to rest; for even in his dreams
+his busy brain was working, and his "Brownies,"
+as he termed them, bringing him fresh material
+for plots. <i>Dr. Jekyll</i> had been thus evolved from
+three scenes dreamed successively in detail, from
+which the dreamer waked with cries of horror.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+But he did not flinch before the coming
+night, and anything that it might bring of
+sickness or unrest. He thought alone upon the
+past delightful day, fraught with strenuous work
+and simple pleasures; and he petitioned, in his
+own words:
+</p>
+
+<p class="poem">
+ "If I have faltered more or less<br />
+ In my great task of happiness;<br />
+ If I have moved along my race<br />
+ And shown no glorious morning face;<br />
+ If beams from happy human eyes<br />
+ Have moved me not; if morning skies,<br />
+ Books, and my food, and summer rain<br />
+ Knocked on my sullen heart in vain:&mdash;<br />
+ Lord, Thy most pointed pleasure take<br />
+ And stab my spirit broad awake!"<br />
+ &nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;(<i>Underwoods.</i>)<br />
+</p>
+
+<p><br /></p>
+
+<p>
+His wife hovered around him with gentle
+ministrations, as suddenly out-wearied, Robert
+Louis Stevenson extended his long, lean form
+to a possible repose. There was not, perhaps,
+a cheerfuller man that night in England.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+The sea hummed at the foot of the chine,
+with that soft and dove-like purring of the
+South-coast sea; the doves made answer with
+a vibrant cooing in the middle distance of the
+twilight garden. Spring buds of pear-trees and
+cherry-trees globed themselves stealthily into
+blossom; a delicate latent energy was
+consciously present in the air&mdash;the rising of sap
+and revivification of seed, all the mysterious
+hidden progresses of April. And the man
+whose ways were set in a perpetual
+convergence towards the doors of death, waved,
+so to speak, a blithe recognition to the myriad
+hosts of life.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"O toiling hands of mortals! O unwearied
+feet, travelling ye know not whither! Soon,
+soon, it seems to you, you must come forth on
+some conspicuous hilltop, and but a little way
+further, against the setting sun, descry the
+spires of El Dorado. Little do ye know your
+own blessedness; for to travel hopefully is a
+better thing than to arrive, and the true success
+is labour." (<i>Virginibus Puerisque.</i>)
+</p>
+
+<p><br /><br /><br /></p>
+
+<p>
+The author desires to acknowledge the
+kindness of Messrs. Cassell &amp; Co., in allowing
+short extracts to be made from <i>The Master of
+Ballantrae</i>, <i>The Wrecker</i>, and <i>Catriona</i>; also to
+thank Mr. William Heinemann for a similar
+courtesy with regard to <i>St. Ives</i>, and
+Messrs. Chatto &amp; Windus for their permission to
+include various quotations from <i>Virginibus
+Puerisque</i>, <i>Underwoods</i>, and <i>Prince Otto</i>.
+</p>
+
+<p><br /><br /></p>
+
+<p class="t4">
+ Printed by The Bushey Colour Press (André &amp; Sleigh, Ltd.),<br />
+ Bushey, Herts., England.<br />
+</p>
+
+<p><br /><br /></p>
+
+<p class="capcenter">
+<a id="img-cover-r"></a>
+<img class="imgcenter" src="images/img-cover-r.jpg" alt="Rear cover" />
+<br />
+Rear cover
+</p>
+
+<p><br /><br /><br /><br /></p>
+
+<div>*** END OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK 53165 ***</div>
+</body>
+
+</html>
+
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-Project Gutenberg's A Day with Robert Louis Stevenson, by Maurice Clare
-
-This eBook is for the use of anyone anywhere in the United States and most
-other parts of the world at no cost and with almost no restrictions
-whatsoever. You may copy it, give it away or re-use it under the terms of
-the Project Gutenberg License included with this eBook or online at
-www.gutenberg.org. If you are not located in the United States, you'll have
-to check the laws of the country where you are located before using this ebook.
-
-Title: A Day with Robert Louis Stevenson
-
-Author: Maurice Clare
-
-Release Date: September 28, 2016 [EBook #53165]
-
-Language: English
-
-Character set encoding: ISO-8859-1
-
-*** START OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK A DAY WITH ROBERT LOUIS STEVENSON ***
-
-
-
-
-Produced by Al Haines
-
-
-
-
-
-
-
-
-
-[Illustration: Cover art]
-
-
-
-
-[Illustration: Robert Louis Stevenson]
-
-
-
-
-_Painting by W. Hatherell._
-
- "Took down the folds of her hair--shook it
- round her face and the pool repeated her
- thus veiled."
-
-_Prince Otto._
-
-[Illustration: _Prince Otto_]
-
-
-
-
- A DAY WITH
- ROBERT LOUIS
- STEVENSON
-
-
- BY MAURICE CLARE
-
-
-
- LONDON
- HODDER & STOUGHTON
- 1910
-
-
-
-
- _In the same Series.
- Dickens.
- Thackeray._
-
-
-
-
-A DAY WITH STEVENSON.
-
-
-Supposing that in the month of April, 1886, you had arrived, a guest
-foreseen, at the pleasant ivy-muffled dwelling in Bournemouth, which
-had recently adopted the name of Skerryvore, and that you had been
-permitted to enter its doors--you might account yourself a somewhat
-favoured person. For the master of the house, "that rickety and
-cloistered spectre," as he termed himself, the "pallid brute who lived
-in Skerryvore like a weevil in a biscuit," might be invisible for the
-nonce--shut upstairs, forbidden even to speak for fear of inducing
-hemorrhage. Or again, you might yourself be afflicted with an obvious
-cold: in which case you would not be admitted into his presence, lest
-you left contagion of that cold.
-
-But if fate befriended you, you would chance upon the most remarkable
-personality, it might be, that you had yet encountered. A lean, long
-flat-chested man, gracefully emphatic of gesture--pacing up and down
-the room as he talked--burning with hectic energy--a man of rich brown
-tints in hair and eyes and skin: mutable, mirthful, brilliant--above
-all "vital," as he had described himself, "wholly vital with a buoyance
-of life" which had upborne him hitherto over the crest of most
-tumultuous distresses.
-
-Robert Louis Stevenson was now thirty-six years old: and ever since his
-sixth year, when, as his mother recorded in her diary, he dreamed that
-he "heard the noise of pens writing," his aim had been set unswervingly
-toward the one goal. Born of a strong and strenuous family, the great
-lighthouse builders of the north, he was not, like them, intent upon
-the subjugation of obstinate stone, the ordering and ordaining of rocks
-and seas. Dhu Heartach and the Bell Rock and Skerryvore he could
-admire at a distance: but the material which cried aloud to him for
-mastery, was much more plastic,--yet, to him, no less stubborn. "I
-imagine," he declared, "nobody ever had such pains to learn a trade as
-I had; but I slogged at it day in and day out." His fastidious soul
-refused to be contented with a facile and slipshod utterance. A
-passionate quest: after _le mot propre_, which had led him, in his own
-phrase, to "play the sedulus ape" to all the great prose writers of the
-past--and a sense of style such as no man had ever so anxiously and
-assiduously developed in himself--these had achieved their own reward.
-"'Thanks to my dire industry," said Stevenson, "I have done more with
-smaller gifts than almost any man of letters in the world."
-
-And this was a just pride: for there was no branch of literature in
-which he could not admirably acquit himself. So many years a struggler
-in obscurity, with small hopes, few successes, little
-encouragement--battling with continuous and crippling maladies,--this
-indomitable artist, by sheer dint of "dire industry," now suddenly
-stood forth in full blaze of public recognition. The author of
-_Virginibus Puerisque_, _Treasure Island_, _Prince Otto_, _The Child's
-Garden of Verse_, and _Dr. Jekyll_, was very much a man to be reckoned
-with.
-
-Probably few modern books have met with such instantaneous and
-triumphant success as _Treasure Island_ and _Dr. Jekyll_. The first,
-after running its course, unannounced and comparatively unrecognized,
-the serial of an obscure author, in _Young Folks' Paper_, was published
-in book form,--and Stevenson, like Byron, "awoke to find himself
-famous." The honours which he had failed to obtain with all the dainty
-humour, all the valiant fatalism, of _Virginibus Puerisque_, had been
-accorded without stint to _Treasure Island_. It was a tense and
-stimulating piece of pure adventure. The authentic air of the
-eighteenth century breathed through every sentence of it: and its fine
-flavour of dare-devil romance kindled even sober statesmen, such as Mr.
-Gladstone, to a very furore of avidity in devouring its breathless
-pages.
-
-As for _Dr. Jekyll_, that gruesome work--literally the product of a
-nightmare--had been quoted in pulpits, discussed in newspapers, read by
-everybody,--it had taken the world by storm. Yet Stevenson's head was
-not turned by his tardily-won success: with his customary _sang froid_,
-he took things as they came, failures and triumphs, and met each alike
-with smiling gallantry.
-
-The motives which had led him into authorship--or rather forced him,
-despite all stress and hindrance of froward circumstances,--were as
-curiously varied as his own nature; and it was these motives which
-still drove him hard and incessantly. To fame he was perhaps not
-wholly indifferent. No author sits so austerely aloft as to disdain
-popular applause altogether. Yet a born stylist and a conscious
-artist, like Stevenson, knew that his most finished work was above and
-beyond the appreciation of the general public. For money,--though it
-was a necessity of life to him, and although, with all his recent
-triumphs, he was not at present earning more than £400 a year,--for
-money he did not care, except as a means to an end. "Wealth is only
-useful for two things," he said, "a yacht and a string quartet. Except
-for these, I hold that £700 a year is as much as a man can possibly
-want." Still, in declaring, "I do not write for the public," he added
-with engaging candour, "I do write for money, a nobler deity," and
-this, to a certain extent was true. It was for money only, no doubt,
-that he was now undertaking, against the grain, that "romance of
-tushery," _The Black Arrow_, a tale with a mediæval setting in which he
-felt himself ill at ease. But "most of all," he allowed, "I write for
-myself; not perhaps any more noble, but both more intelligent and
-nearer home."
-
-And that a man in such difficulties of health and finance, and so
-precarious a position, should have the courage of his own determined
-artistry, was in itself sufficiently remarkable: but the result more
-than justified his choice.
-
-All the morning, Stevenson had been upstairs writing: probably after a
-bad night; very likely in what any other man would term a totally unfit
-condition. Under any and all circumstances, he continued to write
-unflinchingly; racked by coughing, reeling with weakness, with his
-right arm in a sling, and his left hand holding the pen,--sitting up in
-bed with a clinical thermometer in his mouth; and yet, as he declared,
-"I like my life all the same ... I should bear false witness if I did
-not declare life happy." ... He was, in his own words, "made for a
-contest, and the powers have so willed that my battlefield should be
-this dingy, inglorious one of the bed and the physic bottle."
-
-"To declare life happy," became, in fact, his literary mission,--the
-condensed philosophy of his gay, inveterate courage. "I believe that
-literature should give joy," was his maxim, "one dank, dispirited word
-is harmful,--a crime of _lèse-humanité_." This brave and cheerful
-outlook is evident in all his essays,--it is, so to speak, a glorified
-and artistic Mark-Tapleyism, all-pervading, unimpugnable, ready to
-survive the most malevolent accidents of life, the crowning tragedy of
-death itself. And so you find the "chronic sickist," as he termed
-himself, still ready, in all but body, for great risks and inspiriting
-adventures, and--through a mist of pain--leading forlorn hopes with a
-waving sword of flame. You hear him proclaiming that:
-
-"All who have meant good work with their whole hearts, have done good
-work, although they may die before they have the time to sign it.
-Every heart that has beat strong and cheerfully has left a hopeful
-impulse behind it in the world, and bettered the tradition of mankind.
-And even if death catch people, like an open pitfall, and in
-mid-career, laying out vast projects, and planning monstrous
-foundations, flushed with hope, and their mouths full of boastful
-language, they should be at once tripped up and silenced; is there not
-something brave and spirited in such a termination? and does not life
-go down with a better grace, foaming in full body over a precipice,
-than miserable struggling to an end in sandy deltas?" (_Virginibus
-Puerisque_.)
-
-And to him, above all, applied his own triumphant lines, those which he
-addressed to W. E. Henley, another writer, a man of like courageous
-outlook, who, like himself, "in the fell grip of circumstances, had not
-winced nor cried aloud:
-
- "... Small the pipe; but oh! do thou,
- Peak-faced and suffering piper, blow therein
- The dirge of heroes dead; and to these sick,
- These dying, sound the triumph over death.
- Behold! each greatly breathes; each tastes a joy
- Unknown before in dying; for each knows
- A hero dies with him--though unfulfilled,
- Yet conquering truly--and not dies in vain."
-
-
-At present he was engaged upon _Kidnapped_, that admirable piece of
-fiction which he had begun, "partly as a lark and partly as a
-pot-boiler." It was a relief, after the concentrated horror of _Dr.
-Jekyll_, to escape into the Scottish heather-scent and to feel the salt
-sea-wind whistling through the cordage of _Kidnapped_.
-
-
-_Painting by W. Hatherell._
-
- "She stood on the bulwarks and held on by a
- stay, the wind blowing in her petticoats.
-
-_Catriona._
-
-[Illustration: _Catriona_]
-
-
-Stevenson was desirous to "get free of this prison-yard of the
-abominably ugly, where I take my daily exercise with my
-contemporaries." Possibly he recognised that the amazing popularity of
-_Jekyll_ had been due to the morbid attractiveness of its subject,
-rather than to its merits of craftsmanship; for, as he had averred, "I
-know that good work sometimes hits; but, with my hand on my heart, I
-think it is an accident." But now he was at liberty to give play to
-his infinite variety upon a true boys' book,--a story to satisfy the
-inveterate boyishness of his own heart. "Of the romance of boyhood and
-adolescence, it has been said, he is an unsurpassed master ... the
-philosophy of life developed in both his essays and romances is that
-rather of a gifted boy than a mature man." (J. W. Mackail.) And even
-the girls of Stevenson's imagination have been accused of being "boys
-in petticoats." The phrase has reason. "I have never admired a girl,"
-he wrote, and again, "I have never pleased myself with any women of
-mine." The other sex remained for him, throughout, a mystery which he
-hardly cared to solve,--a sealed book which he was not desirous to
-open. "Of the two eternal factors in the destiny of man, warfare and
-love," although he allowed that "to love is the great amulet which
-makes the world a garden," he preferred to deal almost exclusively with
-the warfare.
-
-And yet one women had played a very important part in Stevenson's life:
-and it was practically with his marriage that the tide of his fortunes
-had changed. His wife,--"trusty, dusky, vivid, true," was his very
-_alter ego_: with "a character" (to quote Mr. Sidney Colvin) "as
-strong, interesting, and romantic almost as his own: an inseparable
-sharer of all his thoughts, the most shrewd and stimulating of critics:
-and in sickness, despite her own precarious health, the most devoted
-and most efficient of nurses." To while away the weary hours of
-illness, Mrs. Stevenson made up stories to amuse him,--and subsequently
-the husband and wife would write them out together. She, with her
-"eyes of gold and bramble-dew," was literally all-in-all to him as
-companion, helpmate, friend;--and far--how infinitely far!--above the
-ideal wife whom he had described so adroitly,--in his bachelor
-days,--that woman who should have "a fine touch for the affections,"
-and who should at least be sufficiently talented to avoid boring her
-life-long comrade. The character of the ideal wife, as there
-indicated,--apt at gracious compromises, possessor of a cheerful fluent
-tongue,--was very obviously set forth by a man who had never yet been
-stirred by the sharp throbs of an imperative emotion. And now that
-Stevenson realised what love in its depth and breadth might mean, it
-held a certain sanctity for him,--he was loth to speak of it, as to
-write of it. It was a marvel that had befallen him personally: but for
-other people, it might still perhaps, be no more than that gentle
-domesticated affection which he had portrayed with such amiable humour.
-But there was one point in which he, consciously or unconsciously
-insisted, in his _desiderata_ of the female character.
-
-"It always warms a man," he had declared, "to see a woman brave," and
-he saw it daily in his wife. Therefore it came about, that, unversed
-in women--as Stevenson unquestionably was, he was able to endow his
-heroines with a touch of gallant boyishness, a hint of the heroic--and
-if they failed in flesh-and-blood-_vraisemblance_, they had that
-"steel-true, blade-straight" quality which he adored in the women he
-had chosen.
-
-You will notice this courageous virtue in all of them, rich and poor;
-from _Catriona_, that "tall, pretty, tender figure of a maiden, when,
-having assured her father's escape from prison by a bold stratagem, she
-arrives a fugitive and an exile at Helvoetsluys, and lands from the
-staggering side of the _Rose_ into the little boat below;--when, in
-David Balfour's words:
-
-"I began to think I had made a fool's bargain, that it was merely
-impossible Catriona should be got on board to me, and that I stood to
-be set ashore in Helvoet all by myself ... But this was to reckon
-without the lass's courage ... Up she stood on the bulwarks and held by
-a stay, the wind blowing in her petticoats, which made the enterprise
-more dangerous, and gave us rather more a view of her stockings than
-would be thought genteel in cities"--(_Catriona._)
-
-to Seraphina in _Prince Otto_, still inherently valorous in that
-desperate flight through the forest: where:
-
-"At length when she was well weary, she came upon a wide and shallow
-pool. Stones stood in it, like islands; bulrushes fringed the coast;
-the floor was paved with pine needles; and the pines themselves, whose
-roots made promontories, looked down silently on their green images.
-She crept to the margin and beheld herself with wonder, a hollow and
-bright-eyed phantom, in the ruins of her palace robe ... She addressed
-herself to make a toilette by that forest mirror, washed herself pure
-from all the stains of her adventure, took off her jewels and wrapped
-them in her handkerchief, re-arranged the tatters of her dress, and
-took down the folds of her hair. She shook it round her face, and the
-pool repeated her thus veiled." (_Prince Otto._)
-
-Clara Huddlestone, in the _Pavilion on the Links_, repeats the same
-undauntable note: Olalla is inexorable in moral courage of
-renunciation, even the weeping Blanche, in the _Sieur de Malétroit's
-Door_, has the mettle of some small creature at bay.
-
-The charm of Stevenson's heroines is, in short, a cold charm; nor does
-he often accord them the assistance of a personal description. But
-they are finely tempered, of the best Toledo steel, and owing to their
-boyish character, there is no very obvious gap in those novels where
-they are conspicuously absent, such as _The Ebb Tide_, _The Wreckers_,
-and _The Master of Ballantrae_. In the latter, indeed, there is a
-slight "female interest," but a stronger personality in the heroine
-must inevitably have changed or coloured the whole course of the book:
-and one cannot but detect a certain vacuum, where at least some emotion
-might have lifted a haggard head, in the character of Mrs. Henry,--even
-in that scene, surcharged with hidden explosive possibilities, when the
-author describes how:
-
-"The Master played upon that little ballad, and upon those who heard
-him, like an instrument, and seemed now upon the point of failing, and
-now to conquer his distress, so that the words and music seemed to pour
-out of his own heart and his own past, and to be aimed directly at Mrs.
-Henry.... When it came to an end we all sat silent for a time: he had
-chosen the dusk of the afternoon, so that none could see his
-neighbour's face: but it seemed as if we held our breathing: only my
-old lord cleared his throat. The first to move was the singer, who got
-to his feet suddenly and softly, and went and walked softly to and fro
-in the low end of the hall." (_The Master of Ballantrae._)
-
-
-But Mrs. Henry plays a very minor part in the marring or making, here,
-of two men's lives: it is a rôle of _vis inertiæ_ at best. And,
-indeed, when all is said, what shall a petticoat be if not irrelevant,
-among the clash of steel and smoke of pistols, in an atmosphere
-permeated by Spanish doubloons or illicit piratical treasure?
-Stevenson's infallible artistic instinct led him to keep the
-adventure-story pendant upon the deeds of men, and the eager mistakes
-of boys; and a certain curious penchant for the squalid, the submerged,
-the picturesque, brought him by choice into such company as no heroine
-should enter--that of Villon, for instance, and John Silver, and
-Herrick the cockney vagabond. "The spice of life is battle," he said;
-and his life, and his books, were brimful of battles with foes or with
-fortune.
-
-
-_Painting by W. Hatherell._
-
- "'The words and music seemed to pour out of
- his own heart and his own past and to be
- aimed directly at Mrs. Henry."
-
-_Master of Ballantrae._
-
-[Illustration: _Master of Ballantrae_]
-
-
-The open-air life which he had perforce abandoned, the joy of physical
-strength and hair-breadth 'scape, could still be his by proxy. He
-revelled in delineating his ideal man:
-
-"Being a true lover of living, a fellow with something pushing and
-spontaneous in his inside, he must, like any other soldier, in any
-other stirring, deadly warfare, push on at his best pace until he touch
-the goal. 'A peerage or Westminster Abbey!' cried Nelson in his
-bright, boyish, heroic manner. These are great incentives; not for any
-of these, but for the plain satisfaction of living, of being about
-their business in some sort or other, do the brave, serviceable men of
-every nation tread down the nettle danger, and pass flyingly over all
-the stumbling-blocks of prudence." (_Virginibus Puerisque._)
-
-
-The tramp of horse-hoofs, the clank of the capstan, the door ajar--a
-thousand sights and sounds were but symbolisms to him of some
-mysterious by-way of adventure to be followed up, quick with latent
-possibilities of romance; and from one word, one name, he could evolve
-a whole intricate plot. With the simplest of sentences, he could
-electrify the startled reader, as when in _The Wrecker_, where the
-desperate castaways sit gambling on the desert island, and one suddenly
-cries aloud, "Sail ho!"
-
-"All turned at the cry,--and there, in the wild light of the morning,
-heading straight for Midway Reef, was the brig _Flying Scud_ of Hull."
-(_The Wrecker._)
-
-
-On that moment the whole tale hangs as on a pivot. All its involution
-and evolution, all its intricate and tangled clues, lead--backwards or
-forwards--to this one swift breathless sight.
-
-His morning's work accomplished, the tall gaunt man came downstairs,
-literally to play awhile. After weeks, it might be, of enforced
-seclusion in his room, his eye rested pleasurably upon the various
-attractive objects which almost seemed like new to him.
-Stevenson,--the avowed evader of personal property, the rolling-stone
-that had so long refused to gather moss,--was now, under a woman's
-tender surveillance, surrounded with charm and comfort. "Our drawing
-room," he maintained, "is a place so beautiful that it's like eating to
-sit down in it. No other room is so lovely in the world ... I blush
-for the figure I cut in such a bower." The garden, Mrs. Stevenson's
-special pleasure, but one in which her husband did not share, was very
-lovely, with a lawn, and heather-bank, and a half-acre of land, where a
-little stream ran down a "chine" full of rhododendrons. A large
-dovecot figured in the garden; and there also "Boguey," the Stevensons'
-dog, was buried, to whom no other dog had ever been deemed a worthy
-successor.
-
-Stevenson, his clothes hanging loosely on his emaciated figure, and his
-hands--"wonderful hands--long and fragile, like those in the early
-portraits of Velasquez," lingered lovingly over the keys. For a while
-he amused himself by picking out, note by note, the old-world dance
-measures of Lully and Rameau; those gavottes, rigadoons and minuets,
-which conveyed to him the indefinable _pot-pourri_-like, flavour of his
-favourite eighteenth century, embued with a certain stately dignity,
-"the periwig feeling," he called it, as of lords and ladies treading
-courtly measures. Stevenson was passionately fond of classical music,
-but he had never attained to any facility of execution. And when he
-grew tired with his efforts as an interpreter of Lully, he turned to
-"pickling," as he called it--composing, that is to say, after a
-fashion, with "the manly and melodious forefinger." The fact that he
-had invariably failed to master the rudiments of theory, in no wise
-deterred him; on the contrary, difficulties rather enhanced his
-delight. "Books are of no use," he avowed, "they tell you how to write
-in four parts, and that cannot be done by man." So he continued to
-"pickle" with a light heart, and to enjoy consecutive fifths and other
-theoretical delinquencies with an enthusiasm worthy of the most modern
-composer.
-
-Nothing but the lunch hour brought his musical experiments to a close.
-Stevenson, who had, in his own words, "been obliged to strip himself,
-one after another, of all the pleasures that he had chosen, except
-smoking" (and indeed, he was smoking cigarettes all day long) by no
-means disdained the pleasures of the table. Not, perhaps, in the role
-of a gourmet--but as an artist in the more recondite delicacies of
-taste and smell. "To detect the flavour of an olive is no less a piece
-of human perfection than to find beauty in the colours of a sunset," he
-observed; he coupled the flavour of wine with the beauty of the dawn,
-and declared that we do not recognise at its full value the great part
-in life that is played by eating and drinking. "There is a romance
-about the matter after all," he observed. "Probably the table has more
-devotees than love; and I am sure food is more generally entertaining
-than scenery." It was the "romance of the matter" that appealed to
-him; especially the colour, and savour, and poetical tradition of wine.
-"Books, and tobacco jars, and some old Burgundy as red as a November
-sunset, and as fragrant as a violet in April"--these, he thought,
-should suffice the most luxurious.
-
-After lunch, if he anticipated an exhausting evening, he went to
-sleep--at a moment's notice--and after a short, sound repose, was as
-eager as ever to resume his pianoforte amusements; which he continued
-until friends arrived.
-
-At the age of four-and-twenty, Stevenson had noted down his three chief
-wishes. "First, good health: secondly, a small competence: thirdly, _O
-Du lieber Gott!_ friends." The first: wish was irrevocably denied: the
-second was only just beginning to be granted, the guerdon of unresting
-toil: the third petition had been abundantly answered. Never was a man
-more happy in his friends; or one who made them so instantaneously and
-without effort. "He had only to speak," said one friend, "in order to
-be recognised in the first minute for a witty and charming gentleman,
-and in the second, for a man of genius." Some, indeed, like Mr. Edmund
-Gosse, came home dazzled and astounded, saying, as Constance does of
-Arthur, "Was ever such a gracious creature born?" His expression, of
-mingled tenderness and mirth, his "scholarly and eclectic
-presence"--together with his picturesque, velvet-coated appearance, and
-his flashing flow of words, combined to make a man so attractive and so
-unique as could command all love at will. And the friends were very
-many and very notable, who haunted Skerryvore. First and foremost was
-"Bob," Mr. R. A. M. Stevenson, the poet's first cousin, the brilliant
-art critic: "the man likest and most unlike to me," as R.L.S. described
-him. "Bob's" sister, Mrs. de Mattos, and her child were frequent
-visitors; then there were celebrities from London: such as Sargent the
-painter, William Archer, Sidney Colvin, W. E. Henley, Henry James; and
-again friends residing in the neighbourhood of Bournemouth; the poet
-Sir Henry Taylor, and his family; Sir Percy Shelley and his wife.
-These latter, indeed, regarded Stevenson almost in the light of a son.
-He struck them as bearing an extraordinary resemblance to Percy Bysshe
-Shelley; less, perhaps, in lineaments than in figure and in mind; and
-in consequence of this similarity, they held him very dear.
-
-But to all he was the same bewildering charming host, the man who
-variously displayed, to quote W. E. Henley:
-
- "A deal of Ariel, just a streak of Puck,
- Much Antony, of Hamlet most of all,--"
-
-And combined with these curiously versatile fruits, "something of the
-Shorter Catechist."
-
-Generous in criticism, kind in praise, grave and humorous in rapid
-transition, the amazing scope and variety of Stevenson's writings were
-excelled by the scope and variety of his talk. "There was no part of
-the writer that was not visibly present in the man." (Graham Balfour.)
-He had laid down his opinion that "there can be no fairer ambition than
-to excel in talk; to be affable, gay, ready, clear and welcome." But
-none save those who were privileged to hear him, as with quick,
-impetuous gestures, like a Southern foreigner, he emphasised his
-phrases, could realise the power, the versatility, the inexpressible,
-irrepressible charm with which the author could fulfil his "fair
-ambition."
-
-When the visitors had severally taken their departure, the strong
-resonant voice, with its Scottish accent and rich, full tones still
-ringing in their ears,--Stevenson had suffered no abatement in the
-stream of his exuberant mental vitality. The excitement of
-conversation had, if anything, keyed him up; and presently, for the
-writing of a few unavoidable letters, he betook himself to his study;
-"the study where a smiling God beholds each day my stage of labour
-trod," and sate himself down there with reluctance.
-
-
-_Painting by W. Hatherell._
-
- "All turned at the cry, and there in the wild
- light of the morning heaving straight for
- midway reef was the brig _Flying Scud_ of
- Hull."
-
-_The Wrecker._
-
-[Illustration: _The Wrecker_]
-
-
-Correspondence, as a rule, he found but an irksome affair; unless
-conducted upon his own whimsical lines. "I deny that letters should
-contain news--I mean mine--those of other people should," was his
-theory; and he boasted himself of a "willingness to pour forth
-unmitigated rot, which constitutes in me the true spirit of
-correspondence." For all that, his letters, grave or gay, remain among
-the most delightful reading in existence; flavoured with his quaintest
-conceits, endowed with his most delicate turns of phrase, and often
-tempered with that "something of the Shorter Catechist" to which Henley
-had alluded.
-
-For, undoubtedly, as time went on, although Stevenson continued to
-"combine the face of a boy with the distinguished bearing of a man of
-the world," he was gradually exchanging the "streak of Puck" and the
-capricious unconventions of the born Bohemian, for something graver and
-more mature,--a tendency almost towards the didactic. "'Tis a strange
-world indeed," he had commented, "but there is a manifest God for those
-who care to look for Him." And now, "with the passing of years," he
-observed, "there grows more and more upon me that belief in the
-kindness of this scheme of things, and the goodness of our veiled God,
-which is an excellent and pacifying compensation." He was suffering,
-and in all probability would perpetually suffer, from "that sharp
-ferule of calamity under which we are all God's scholars till we die":
-but his patience was impregnable, and his desire to leave a brave
-example bore him constant company. "To suffer," said he, "sets a keen
-edge on what remains of the agreeable," and he prepared to enjoy with
-equal zest all pleasures which were still permitted to him.
-
-As he put away his writing materials, and descended once more to his
-beloved piano, his father and mother came in. They were living in
-Bournemouth to be near their only son. The old lighthouse engineer,
-whose father had built the Bell Rock, who had served under his brother
-Alan in the building of Skerryvore, "the noblest of all extant
-sea-lights," who had himself erected Dhu Heartach, was now palpably
-failing. The spectacle of a stern and honest man slowly evacuating all
-that he had held of personal strength, was, to his son Louis, a
-poignantly pathetic one. Their disagreements had been very many and
-deep-rooted, dating from even before that "dreadful evening walk" in
-Stevenson's youth, when, "on being tightly cross-questioned," the lad
-who had been trained for a civil engineer, and had "worked in a
-carpenter's shop and had a brass foundry, and hung about wood-yards and
-the like," confessed that he cared for nothing but literature,--"no
-profession!" as his father contemptuously replied. They had differed
-on almost every conceivable topic open to their discussion,--yet here,
-in the fulness of time, they were at peace together,--the austere old
-man in his second childhood, and the chronic invalid who "must live as
-though he were walking on eggs." Innumerable ineffaceable traits of
-similarity bound one to the other; at bottom of all the bygone angers
-lay a permanent bedrock of mutual love. And perhaps the nearing vision
-of death which terminated all vistas for both of them, exercised its
-usual effect, of calm, and _laisser-faire_, and the equalisation of
-things: for it is probable that no man has a just sense of
-proportionate values until he stands in the presence of death.
-
-Stevenson had often alluded, as a matter of personal knowledge, to his
-constant prescience of mortality, and how it affected a man's thoughts
-of life. Very seldom has the view of the confirmed invalid, the doomed
-consumptive, been put forth to the world with the frankness with which
-Stevenson invested it. He has been sometimes charged with a certain
-lack of reticence: but in this matter, unquestionably, his candour was
-to the benefitting of mankind: to whom these close views of the
-inevitable end are rarely possible under such deliberate and
-clear-headed conditions.
-
-There is nothing maudlin, nothing hypochondriacal, about Stevenson's
-treatment of this subject: the same cheerful philosophy bears him up,
-the same vitality of joy. It is hardly to be wondered at, that some
-critics handled him seriously, on account of his lightheartedness in
-the august shadow of the last enemy,--and his inveterate optimism in
-the face of all calamities. "He jests at scars who never felt a
-wound," they practically told him,--and could hardly be persuaded to
-credit the paradox that the man who preached in season and out of
-season, the gospel of that "cheery old Pagan, Hope," was not a denizen
-of the open-air,--healthy, athletic, vigorous, incapable of realising
-the maladies incident to man,--instead of an emaciated, bed-ridden
-creature, whose smallest pleasures must be measured, so to speak, in a
-medicine-glass. But, "It is something after all," he has said, "to
-leave a brave example": and in that he triumphantly succeeded. For the
-opportunities of meteoric heroisms are few and far between; but every
-hour beholds the need of those obscurer braveries which may be born of
-pain and suffering....
-
-In _Ordered South_ and other well-known essays, he shows the gradual
-relaxation of the ties which bind a man to terrestrial things,--and the
-curiously significant alteration in his regard for the facts of
-life,--from the sower in the dank spring furrows, to the sight of
-little children with their long possibilities before them.
-
-Stevenson had no children of his own. His stepson, Lloyd Osbourne,
-then at school in Bournemouth, was destined to become his friend and
-collaborator: but it is doubtful that he cared for children as such.
-The average small folk, "dragged about in a pleasing stupor by nurses,"
-were very far remote from that superabundant vitality nursed in an
-attenuated physique, which had sat up with a shawl over its shoulders,
-so many tedious months in childhood, when its principal _habitat_ was
-"The Land of Counterpane" and other regions mapped out in the great and
-glorious world of Make-Believe.
-
-
-_Painting by W. Hatherell._
-
-ST. IVES DESCENDS FROM EDINBURGH CASTLE.
-
- "The whole forces of my mind were so consumed
- with losing hold and getting it again, that I
- could scarce have told whether I was going up
- or coming down."
-
-_St. Ives._
-
-[Illustration: _St. Ives_]
-
-
-For this reason, the _Child's Garden of Verses_ is not, in any real
-sense of the word, a child's book at all. It contains the exquisite
-imaginations of childhood as the grown-up man remembers them: to him
-they have the charm of the vanished past, they are the utterances of
-one who has also lived in Arcadia. But to the child, they are the very
-commonplaces of existence. To sway to and fro in a swing, "the
-pleasantest thing a child can do,"--to bring home treasures from field
-and wood, nuts and wooden whistles, and some all-precious
-unidentifiable stone, "though father denies it, I'm sure it is
-gold,"--these are everyday affairs to the country-child,--just as
-watching the lamplighter is to the town child. To read verses about
-them is but a waste of time, when one might be actively engaged in
-similar avocations. But to the grown-man who can never play with
-wooden soldiers in the garden, never be a pirate any more,--these
-reminiscences of Stevenson's are a delight unfailing. No one else has
-ever worded them quite so accurately, quite so simply: and, taken all
-for all, they are in themselves a summing-up of that most excellent
-philosophy of this author, "The world is so full of a number of things,
-I'm sure we should all be as happy as kings!" The world was indeed
-full of a number of things to R.L.S. and,--passed through the crucible
-of his own astonishing personality,--they were all, bad or good,
-transmogrified into things that make for joy.
-
-After eight o'clock dinner was over, the old folks bade
-good-night,--the father, with touching affection, kissing Louis as
-though he were a child, and murmuring, "You'll see me in the morning,
-dearie," as if still addressing that little feeble creature who had
-been kept alive with such difficulty in the old days at Edinburgh.
-
-The younger man returned to the piano-forte; it drew him like a magnet.
-For a short time he indulged in his desultory music-making, relishing
-to the uttermost every success of sound which he achieved: and the
-happiness, which was his theory of life, radiated in warm abundance
-from his richly-tinted face and glowing eyes. "It's a fine life," he
-exclaimed.
-
-At last the day's supply of energy succumbed before the imperious
-demands of this "fiery threadpaper of a man," and in deference to his
-wife's suggestion he betook himself to bed. Not necessarily to rest;
-for even in his dreams his busy brain was working, and his "Brownies,"
-as he termed them, bringing him fresh material for plots. _Dr. Jekyll_
-had been thus evolved from three scenes dreamed successively in detail,
-from which the dreamer waked with cries of horror.
-
-But he did not flinch before the coming night, and anything that it
-might bring of sickness or unrest. He thought alone upon the past
-delightful day, fraught with strenuous work and simple pleasures; and
-he petitioned, in his own words:
-
- "If I have faltered more or less
- In my great task of happiness;
- If I have moved along my race
- And shown no glorious morning face;
- If beams from happy human eyes
- Have moved me not; if morning skies,
- Books, and my food, and summer rain
- Knocked on my sullen heart in vain:--
- Lord, Thy most pointed pleasure take
- And stab my spirit broad awake!"
- (_Underwoods._)
-
-
-His wife hovered around him with gentle ministrations, as suddenly
-out-wearied, Robert Louis Stevenson extended his long, lean form to a
-possible repose. There was not, perhaps, a cheerfuller man that night
-in England.
-
-The sea hummed at the foot of the chine, with that soft and dove-like
-purring of the South-coast sea; the doves made answer with a vibrant
-cooing in the middle distance of the twilight garden. Spring buds of
-pear-trees and cherry-trees globed themselves stealthily into blossom;
-a delicate latent energy was consciously present in the air--the rising
-of sap and revivification of seed, all the mysterious hidden progresses
-of April. And the man whose ways were set in a perpetual convergence
-towards the doors of death, waved, so to speak, a blithe recognition to
-the myriad hosts of life.
-
-"O toiling hands of mortals! O unwearied feet, travelling ye know not
-whither! Soon, soon, it seems to you, you must come forth on some
-conspicuous hilltop, and but a little way further, against the setting
-sun, descry the spires of El Dorado. Little do ye know your own
-blessedness; for to travel hopefully is a better thing than to arrive,
-and the true success is labour." (_Virginibus Puerisque._)
-
-
-
-The author desires to acknowledge the kindness of Messrs. Cassell &
-Co., in allowing short extracts to be made from _The Master of
-Ballantrae_, _The Wrecker_, and _Catriona_; also to thank Mr. William
-Heinemann for a similar courtesy with regard to _St. Ives_, and Messrs.
-Chatto & Windus for their permission to include various quotations from
-_Virginibus Puerisque_, _Underwoods_, and _Prince Otto_.
-
-
-
- Printed by The Bushey Colour Press (André & Sleigh, Ltd.),
- Bushey, Herts., England.
-
-
-
-
-[Illustration: Rear cover]
-
-
-
-
-
-
-
-
-
-
-
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+Project Gutenberg's A Day with Robert Louis Stevenson, by Maurice Clare
+
+This eBook is for the use of anyone anywhere in the United States and most
+other parts of the world at no cost and with almost no restrictions
+whatsoever. You may copy it, give it away or re-use it under the terms of
+the Project Gutenberg License included with this eBook or online at
+www.gutenberg.org. If you are not located in the United States, you'll have
+to check the laws of the country where you are located before using this ebook.
+
+Title: A Day with Robert Louis Stevenson
+
+Author: Maurice Clare
+
+Release Date: September 28, 2016 [EBook #53165]
+
+Language: English
+
+Character set encoding: ISO-8859-1
+
+*** START OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK A DAY WITH ROBERT LOUIS STEVENSON ***
+
+
+
+
+Produced by Al Haines
+
+
+
+
+
+
+
+
+
+[Illustration: Cover art]
+
+
+
+
+[Illustration: Robert Louis Stevenson]
+
+
+
+
+_Painting by W. Hatherell._
+
+ "Took down the folds of her hair--shook it
+ round her face and the pool repeated her
+ thus veiled."
+
+_Prince Otto._
+
+[Illustration: _Prince Otto_]
+
+
+
+
+ A DAY WITH
+ ROBERT LOUIS
+ STEVENSON
+
+
+ BY MAURICE CLARE
+
+
+
+ LONDON
+ HODDER & STOUGHTON
+ 1910
+
+
+
+
+ _In the same Series.
+ Dickens.
+ Thackeray._
+
+
+
+
+A DAY WITH STEVENSON.
+
+
+Supposing that in the month of April, 1886, you had arrived, a guest
+foreseen, at the pleasant ivy-muffled dwelling in Bournemouth, which
+had recently adopted the name of Skerryvore, and that you had been
+permitted to enter its doors--you might account yourself a somewhat
+favoured person. For the master of the house, "that rickety and
+cloistered spectre," as he termed himself, the "pallid brute who lived
+in Skerryvore like a weevil in a biscuit," might be invisible for the
+nonce--shut upstairs, forbidden even to speak for fear of inducing
+hemorrhage. Or again, you might yourself be afflicted with an obvious
+cold: in which case you would not be admitted into his presence, lest
+you left contagion of that cold.
+
+But if fate befriended you, you would chance upon the most remarkable
+personality, it might be, that you had yet encountered. A lean, long
+flat-chested man, gracefully emphatic of gesture--pacing up and down
+the room as he talked--burning with hectic energy--a man of rich brown
+tints in hair and eyes and skin: mutable, mirthful, brilliant--above
+all "vital," as he had described himself, "wholly vital with a buoyance
+of life" which had upborne him hitherto over the crest of most
+tumultuous distresses.
+
+Robert Louis Stevenson was now thirty-six years old: and ever since his
+sixth year, when, as his mother recorded in her diary, he dreamed that
+he "heard the noise of pens writing," his aim had been set unswervingly
+toward the one goal. Born of a strong and strenuous family, the great
+lighthouse builders of the north, he was not, like them, intent upon
+the subjugation of obstinate stone, the ordering and ordaining of rocks
+and seas. Dhu Heartach and the Bell Rock and Skerryvore he could
+admire at a distance: but the material which cried aloud to him for
+mastery, was much more plastic,--yet, to him, no less stubborn. "I
+imagine," he declared, "nobody ever had such pains to learn a trade as
+I had; but I slogged at it day in and day out." His fastidious soul
+refused to be contented with a facile and slipshod utterance. A
+passionate quest: after _le mot propre_, which had led him, in his own
+phrase, to "play the sedulus ape" to all the great prose writers of the
+past--and a sense of style such as no man had ever so anxiously and
+assiduously developed in himself--these had achieved their own reward.
+"'Thanks to my dire industry," said Stevenson, "I have done more with
+smaller gifts than almost any man of letters in the world."
+
+And this was a just pride: for there was no branch of literature in
+which he could not admirably acquit himself. So many years a struggler
+in obscurity, with small hopes, few successes, little
+encouragement--battling with continuous and crippling maladies,--this
+indomitable artist, by sheer dint of "dire industry," now suddenly
+stood forth in full blaze of public recognition. The author of
+_Virginibus Puerisque_, _Treasure Island_, _Prince Otto_, _The Child's
+Garden of Verse_, and _Dr. Jekyll_, was very much a man to be reckoned
+with.
+
+Probably few modern books have met with such instantaneous and
+triumphant success as _Treasure Island_ and _Dr. Jekyll_. The first,
+after running its course, unannounced and comparatively unrecognized,
+the serial of an obscure author, in _Young Folks' Paper_, was published
+in book form,--and Stevenson, like Byron, "awoke to find himself
+famous." The honours which he had failed to obtain with all the dainty
+humour, all the valiant fatalism, of _Virginibus Puerisque_, had been
+accorded without stint to _Treasure Island_. It was a tense and
+stimulating piece of pure adventure. The authentic air of the
+eighteenth century breathed through every sentence of it: and its fine
+flavour of dare-devil romance kindled even sober statesmen, such as Mr.
+Gladstone, to a very furore of avidity in devouring its breathless
+pages.
+
+As for _Dr. Jekyll_, that gruesome work--literally the product of a
+nightmare--had been quoted in pulpits, discussed in newspapers, read by
+everybody,--it had taken the world by storm. Yet Stevenson's head was
+not turned by his tardily-won success: with his customary _sang froid_,
+he took things as they came, failures and triumphs, and met each alike
+with smiling gallantry.
+
+The motives which had led him into authorship--or rather forced him,
+despite all stress and hindrance of froward circumstances,--were as
+curiously varied as his own nature; and it was these motives which
+still drove him hard and incessantly. To fame he was perhaps not
+wholly indifferent. No author sits so austerely aloft as to disdain
+popular applause altogether. Yet a born stylist and a conscious
+artist, like Stevenson, knew that his most finished work was above and
+beyond the appreciation of the general public. For money,--though it
+was a necessity of life to him, and although, with all his recent
+triumphs, he was not at present earning more than £400 a year,--for
+money he did not care, except as a means to an end. "Wealth is only
+useful for two things," he said, "a yacht and a string quartet. Except
+for these, I hold that £700 a year is as much as a man can possibly
+want." Still, in declaring, "I do not write for the public," he added
+with engaging candour, "I do write for money, a nobler deity," and
+this, to a certain extent was true. It was for money only, no doubt,
+that he was now undertaking, against the grain, that "romance of
+tushery," _The Black Arrow_, a tale with a mediæval setting in which he
+felt himself ill at ease. But "most of all," he allowed, "I write for
+myself; not perhaps any more noble, but both more intelligent and
+nearer home."
+
+And that a man in such difficulties of health and finance, and so
+precarious a position, should have the courage of his own determined
+artistry, was in itself sufficiently remarkable: but the result more
+than justified his choice.
+
+All the morning, Stevenson had been upstairs writing: probably after a
+bad night; very likely in what any other man would term a totally unfit
+condition. Under any and all circumstances, he continued to write
+unflinchingly; racked by coughing, reeling with weakness, with his
+right arm in a sling, and his left hand holding the pen,--sitting up in
+bed with a clinical thermometer in his mouth; and yet, as he declared,
+"I like my life all the same ... I should bear false witness if I did
+not declare life happy." ... He was, in his own words, "made for a
+contest, and the powers have so willed that my battlefield should be
+this dingy, inglorious one of the bed and the physic bottle."
+
+"To declare life happy," became, in fact, his literary mission,--the
+condensed philosophy of his gay, inveterate courage. "I believe that
+literature should give joy," was his maxim, "one dank, dispirited word
+is harmful,--a crime of _lèse-humanité_." This brave and cheerful
+outlook is evident in all his essays,--it is, so to speak, a glorified
+and artistic Mark-Tapleyism, all-pervading, unimpugnable, ready to
+survive the most malevolent accidents of life, the crowning tragedy of
+death itself. And so you find the "chronic sickist," as he termed
+himself, still ready, in all but body, for great risks and inspiriting
+adventures, and--through a mist of pain--leading forlorn hopes with a
+waving sword of flame. You hear him proclaiming that:
+
+"All who have meant good work with their whole hearts, have done good
+work, although they may die before they have the time to sign it.
+Every heart that has beat strong and cheerfully has left a hopeful
+impulse behind it in the world, and bettered the tradition of mankind.
+And even if death catch people, like an open pitfall, and in
+mid-career, laying out vast projects, and planning monstrous
+foundations, flushed with hope, and their mouths full of boastful
+language, they should be at once tripped up and silenced; is there not
+something brave and spirited in such a termination? and does not life
+go down with a better grace, foaming in full body over a precipice,
+than miserable struggling to an end in sandy deltas?" (_Virginibus
+Puerisque_.)
+
+And to him, above all, applied his own triumphant lines, those which he
+addressed to W. E. Henley, another writer, a man of like courageous
+outlook, who, like himself, "in the fell grip of circumstances, had not
+winced nor cried aloud:
+
+ "... Small the pipe; but oh! do thou,
+ Peak-faced and suffering piper, blow therein
+ The dirge of heroes dead; and to these sick,
+ These dying, sound the triumph over death.
+ Behold! each greatly breathes; each tastes a joy
+ Unknown before in dying; for each knows
+ A hero dies with him--though unfulfilled,
+ Yet conquering truly--and not dies in vain."
+
+
+At present he was engaged upon _Kidnapped_, that admirable piece of
+fiction which he had begun, "partly as a lark and partly as a
+pot-boiler." It was a relief, after the concentrated horror of _Dr.
+Jekyll_, to escape into the Scottish heather-scent and to feel the salt
+sea-wind whistling through the cordage of _Kidnapped_.
+
+
+_Painting by W. Hatherell._
+
+ "She stood on the bulwarks and held on by a
+ stay, the wind blowing in her petticoats.
+
+_Catriona._
+
+[Illustration: _Catriona_]
+
+
+Stevenson was desirous to "get free of this prison-yard of the
+abominably ugly, where I take my daily exercise with my
+contemporaries." Possibly he recognised that the amazing popularity of
+_Jekyll_ had been due to the morbid attractiveness of its subject,
+rather than to its merits of craftsmanship; for, as he had averred, "I
+know that good work sometimes hits; but, with my hand on my heart, I
+think it is an accident." But now he was at liberty to give play to
+his infinite variety upon a true boys' book,--a story to satisfy the
+inveterate boyishness of his own heart. "Of the romance of boyhood and
+adolescence, it has been said, he is an unsurpassed master ... the
+philosophy of life developed in both his essays and romances is that
+rather of a gifted boy than a mature man." (J. W. Mackail.) And even
+the girls of Stevenson's imagination have been accused of being "boys
+in petticoats." The phrase has reason. "I have never admired a girl,"
+he wrote, and again, "I have never pleased myself with any women of
+mine." The other sex remained for him, throughout, a mystery which he
+hardly cared to solve,--a sealed book which he was not desirous to
+open. "Of the two eternal factors in the destiny of man, warfare and
+love," although he allowed that "to love is the great amulet which
+makes the world a garden," he preferred to deal almost exclusively with
+the warfare.
+
+And yet one women had played a very important part in Stevenson's life:
+and it was practically with his marriage that the tide of his fortunes
+had changed. His wife,--"trusty, dusky, vivid, true," was his very
+_alter ego_: with "a character" (to quote Mr. Sidney Colvin) "as
+strong, interesting, and romantic almost as his own: an inseparable
+sharer of all his thoughts, the most shrewd and stimulating of critics:
+and in sickness, despite her own precarious health, the most devoted
+and most efficient of nurses." To while away the weary hours of
+illness, Mrs. Stevenson made up stories to amuse him,--and subsequently
+the husband and wife would write them out together. She, with her
+"eyes of gold and bramble-dew," was literally all-in-all to him as
+companion, helpmate, friend;--and far--how infinitely far!--above the
+ideal wife whom he had described so adroitly,--in his bachelor
+days,--that woman who should have "a fine touch for the affections,"
+and who should at least be sufficiently talented to avoid boring her
+life-long comrade. The character of the ideal wife, as there
+indicated,--apt at gracious compromises, possessor of a cheerful fluent
+tongue,--was very obviously set forth by a man who had never yet been
+stirred by the sharp throbs of an imperative emotion. And now that
+Stevenson realised what love in its depth and breadth might mean, it
+held a certain sanctity for him,--he was loth to speak of it, as to
+write of it. It was a marvel that had befallen him personally: but for
+other people, it might still perhaps, be no more than that gentle
+domesticated affection which he had portrayed with such amiable humour.
+But there was one point in which he, consciously or unconsciously
+insisted, in his _desiderata_ of the female character.
+
+"It always warms a man," he had declared, "to see a woman brave," and
+he saw it daily in his wife. Therefore it came about, that, unversed
+in women--as Stevenson unquestionably was, he was able to endow his
+heroines with a touch of gallant boyishness, a hint of the heroic--and
+if they failed in flesh-and-blood-_vraisemblance_, they had that
+"steel-true, blade-straight" quality which he adored in the women he
+had chosen.
+
+You will notice this courageous virtue in all of them, rich and poor;
+from _Catriona_, that "tall, pretty, tender figure of a maiden, when,
+having assured her father's escape from prison by a bold stratagem, she
+arrives a fugitive and an exile at Helvoetsluys, and lands from the
+staggering side of the _Rose_ into the little boat below;--when, in
+David Balfour's words:
+
+"I began to think I had made a fool's bargain, that it was merely
+impossible Catriona should be got on board to me, and that I stood to
+be set ashore in Helvoet all by myself ... But this was to reckon
+without the lass's courage ... Up she stood on the bulwarks and held by
+a stay, the wind blowing in her petticoats, which made the enterprise
+more dangerous, and gave us rather more a view of her stockings than
+would be thought genteel in cities"--(_Catriona._)
+
+to Seraphina in _Prince Otto_, still inherently valorous in that
+desperate flight through the forest: where:
+
+"At length when she was well weary, she came upon a wide and shallow
+pool. Stones stood in it, like islands; bulrushes fringed the coast;
+the floor was paved with pine needles; and the pines themselves, whose
+roots made promontories, looked down silently on their green images.
+She crept to the margin and beheld herself with wonder, a hollow and
+bright-eyed phantom, in the ruins of her palace robe ... She addressed
+herself to make a toilette by that forest mirror, washed herself pure
+from all the stains of her adventure, took off her jewels and wrapped
+them in her handkerchief, re-arranged the tatters of her dress, and
+took down the folds of her hair. She shook it round her face, and the
+pool repeated her thus veiled." (_Prince Otto._)
+
+Clara Huddlestone, in the _Pavilion on the Links_, repeats the same
+undauntable note: Olalla is inexorable in moral courage of
+renunciation, even the weeping Blanche, in the _Sieur de Malétroit's
+Door_, has the mettle of some small creature at bay.
+
+The charm of Stevenson's heroines is, in short, a cold charm; nor does
+he often accord them the assistance of a personal description. But
+they are finely tempered, of the best Toledo steel, and owing to their
+boyish character, there is no very obvious gap in those novels where
+they are conspicuously absent, such as _The Ebb Tide_, _The Wreckers_,
+and _The Master of Ballantrae_. In the latter, indeed, there is a
+slight "female interest," but a stronger personality in the heroine
+must inevitably have changed or coloured the whole course of the book:
+and one cannot but detect a certain vacuum, where at least some emotion
+might have lifted a haggard head, in the character of Mrs. Henry,--even
+in that scene, surcharged with hidden explosive possibilities, when the
+author describes how:
+
+"The Master played upon that little ballad, and upon those who heard
+him, like an instrument, and seemed now upon the point of failing, and
+now to conquer his distress, so that the words and music seemed to pour
+out of his own heart and his own past, and to be aimed directly at Mrs.
+Henry.... When it came to an end we all sat silent for a time: he had
+chosen the dusk of the afternoon, so that none could see his
+neighbour's face: but it seemed as if we held our breathing: only my
+old lord cleared his throat. The first to move was the singer, who got
+to his feet suddenly and softly, and went and walked softly to and fro
+in the low end of the hall." (_The Master of Ballantrae._)
+
+
+But Mrs. Henry plays a very minor part in the marring or making, here,
+of two men's lives: it is a rôle of _vis inertiæ_ at best. And,
+indeed, when all is said, what shall a petticoat be if not irrelevant,
+among the clash of steel and smoke of pistols, in an atmosphere
+permeated by Spanish doubloons or illicit piratical treasure?
+Stevenson's infallible artistic instinct led him to keep the
+adventure-story pendant upon the deeds of men, and the eager mistakes
+of boys; and a certain curious penchant for the squalid, the submerged,
+the picturesque, brought him by choice into such company as no heroine
+should enter--that of Villon, for instance, and John Silver, and
+Herrick the cockney vagabond. "The spice of life is battle," he said;
+and his life, and his books, were brimful of battles with foes or with
+fortune.
+
+
+_Painting by W. Hatherell._
+
+ "'The words and music seemed to pour out of
+ his own heart and his own past and to be
+ aimed directly at Mrs. Henry."
+
+_Master of Ballantrae._
+
+[Illustration: _Master of Ballantrae_]
+
+
+The open-air life which he had perforce abandoned, the joy of physical
+strength and hair-breadth 'scape, could still be his by proxy. He
+revelled in delineating his ideal man:
+
+"Being a true lover of living, a fellow with something pushing and
+spontaneous in his inside, he must, like any other soldier, in any
+other stirring, deadly warfare, push on at his best pace until he touch
+the goal. 'A peerage or Westminster Abbey!' cried Nelson in his
+bright, boyish, heroic manner. These are great incentives; not for any
+of these, but for the plain satisfaction of living, of being about
+their business in some sort or other, do the brave, serviceable men of
+every nation tread down the nettle danger, and pass flyingly over all
+the stumbling-blocks of prudence." (_Virginibus Puerisque._)
+
+
+The tramp of horse-hoofs, the clank of the capstan, the door ajar--a
+thousand sights and sounds were but symbolisms to him of some
+mysterious by-way of adventure to be followed up, quick with latent
+possibilities of romance; and from one word, one name, he could evolve
+a whole intricate plot. With the simplest of sentences, he could
+electrify the startled reader, as when in _The Wrecker_, where the
+desperate castaways sit gambling on the desert island, and one suddenly
+cries aloud, "Sail ho!"
+
+"All turned at the cry,--and there, in the wild light of the morning,
+heading straight for Midway Reef, was the brig _Flying Scud_ of Hull."
+(_The Wrecker._)
+
+
+On that moment the whole tale hangs as on a pivot. All its involution
+and evolution, all its intricate and tangled clues, lead--backwards or
+forwards--to this one swift breathless sight.
+
+His morning's work accomplished, the tall gaunt man came downstairs,
+literally to play awhile. After weeks, it might be, of enforced
+seclusion in his room, his eye rested pleasurably upon the various
+attractive objects which almost seemed like new to him.
+Stevenson,--the avowed evader of personal property, the rolling-stone
+that had so long refused to gather moss,--was now, under a woman's
+tender surveillance, surrounded with charm and comfort. "Our drawing
+room," he maintained, "is a place so beautiful that it's like eating to
+sit down in it. No other room is so lovely in the world ... I blush
+for the figure I cut in such a bower." The garden, Mrs. Stevenson's
+special pleasure, but one in which her husband did not share, was very
+lovely, with a lawn, and heather-bank, and a half-acre of land, where a
+little stream ran down a "chine" full of rhododendrons. A large
+dovecot figured in the garden; and there also "Boguey," the Stevensons'
+dog, was buried, to whom no other dog had ever been deemed a worthy
+successor.
+
+Stevenson, his clothes hanging loosely on his emaciated figure, and his
+hands--"wonderful hands--long and fragile, like those in the early
+portraits of Velasquez," lingered lovingly over the keys. For a while
+he amused himself by picking out, note by note, the old-world dance
+measures of Lully and Rameau; those gavottes, rigadoons and minuets,
+which conveyed to him the indefinable _pot-pourri_-like, flavour of his
+favourite eighteenth century, embued with a certain stately dignity,
+"the periwig feeling," he called it, as of lords and ladies treading
+courtly measures. Stevenson was passionately fond of classical music,
+but he had never attained to any facility of execution. And when he
+grew tired with his efforts as an interpreter of Lully, he turned to
+"pickling," as he called it--composing, that is to say, after a
+fashion, with "the manly and melodious forefinger." The fact that he
+had invariably failed to master the rudiments of theory, in no wise
+deterred him; on the contrary, difficulties rather enhanced his
+delight. "Books are of no use," he avowed, "they tell you how to write
+in four parts, and that cannot be done by man." So he continued to
+"pickle" with a light heart, and to enjoy consecutive fifths and other
+theoretical delinquencies with an enthusiasm worthy of the most modern
+composer.
+
+Nothing but the lunch hour brought his musical experiments to a close.
+Stevenson, who had, in his own words, "been obliged to strip himself,
+one after another, of all the pleasures that he had chosen, except
+smoking" (and indeed, he was smoking cigarettes all day long) by no
+means disdained the pleasures of the table. Not, perhaps, in the role
+of a gourmet--but as an artist in the more recondite delicacies of
+taste and smell. "To detect the flavour of an olive is no less a piece
+of human perfection than to find beauty in the colours of a sunset," he
+observed; he coupled the flavour of wine with the beauty of the dawn,
+and declared that we do not recognise at its full value the great part
+in life that is played by eating and drinking. "There is a romance
+about the matter after all," he observed. "Probably the table has more
+devotees than love; and I am sure food is more generally entertaining
+than scenery." It was the "romance of the matter" that appealed to
+him; especially the colour, and savour, and poetical tradition of wine.
+"Books, and tobacco jars, and some old Burgundy as red as a November
+sunset, and as fragrant as a violet in April"--these, he thought,
+should suffice the most luxurious.
+
+After lunch, if he anticipated an exhausting evening, he went to
+sleep--at a moment's notice--and after a short, sound repose, was as
+eager as ever to resume his pianoforte amusements; which he continued
+until friends arrived.
+
+At the age of four-and-twenty, Stevenson had noted down his three chief
+wishes. "First, good health: secondly, a small competence: thirdly, _O
+Du lieber Gott!_ friends." The first: wish was irrevocably denied: the
+second was only just beginning to be granted, the guerdon of unresting
+toil: the third petition had been abundantly answered. Never was a man
+more happy in his friends; or one who made them so instantaneously and
+without effort. "He had only to speak," said one friend, "in order to
+be recognised in the first minute for a witty and charming gentleman,
+and in the second, for a man of genius." Some, indeed, like Mr. Edmund
+Gosse, came home dazzled and astounded, saying, as Constance does of
+Arthur, "Was ever such a gracious creature born?" His expression, of
+mingled tenderness and mirth, his "scholarly and eclectic
+presence"--together with his picturesque, velvet-coated appearance, and
+his flashing flow of words, combined to make a man so attractive and so
+unique as could command all love at will. And the friends were very
+many and very notable, who haunted Skerryvore. First and foremost was
+"Bob," Mr. R. A. M. Stevenson, the poet's first cousin, the brilliant
+art critic: "the man likest and most unlike to me," as R.L.S. described
+him. "Bob's" sister, Mrs. de Mattos, and her child were frequent
+visitors; then there were celebrities from London: such as Sargent the
+painter, William Archer, Sidney Colvin, W. E. Henley, Henry James; and
+again friends residing in the neighbourhood of Bournemouth; the poet
+Sir Henry Taylor, and his family; Sir Percy Shelley and his wife.
+These latter, indeed, regarded Stevenson almost in the light of a son.
+He struck them as bearing an extraordinary resemblance to Percy Bysshe
+Shelley; less, perhaps, in lineaments than in figure and in mind; and
+in consequence of this similarity, they held him very dear.
+
+But to all he was the same bewildering charming host, the man who
+variously displayed, to quote W. E. Henley:
+
+ "A deal of Ariel, just a streak of Puck,
+ Much Antony, of Hamlet most of all,--"
+
+And combined with these curiously versatile fruits, "something of the
+Shorter Catechist."
+
+Generous in criticism, kind in praise, grave and humorous in rapid
+transition, the amazing scope and variety of Stevenson's writings were
+excelled by the scope and variety of his talk. "There was no part of
+the writer that was not visibly present in the man." (Graham Balfour.)
+He had laid down his opinion that "there can be no fairer ambition than
+to excel in talk; to be affable, gay, ready, clear and welcome." But
+none save those who were privileged to hear him, as with quick,
+impetuous gestures, like a Southern foreigner, he emphasised his
+phrases, could realise the power, the versatility, the inexpressible,
+irrepressible charm with which the author could fulfil his "fair
+ambition."
+
+When the visitors had severally taken their departure, the strong
+resonant voice, with its Scottish accent and rich, full tones still
+ringing in their ears,--Stevenson had suffered no abatement in the
+stream of his exuberant mental vitality. The excitement of
+conversation had, if anything, keyed him up; and presently, for the
+writing of a few unavoidable letters, he betook himself to his study;
+"the study where a smiling God beholds each day my stage of labour
+trod," and sate himself down there with reluctance.
+
+
+_Painting by W. Hatherell._
+
+ "All turned at the cry, and there in the wild
+ light of the morning heaving straight for
+ midway reef was the brig _Flying Scud_ of
+ Hull."
+
+_The Wrecker._
+
+[Illustration: _The Wrecker_]
+
+
+Correspondence, as a rule, he found but an irksome affair; unless
+conducted upon his own whimsical lines. "I deny that letters should
+contain news--I mean mine--those of other people should," was his
+theory; and he boasted himself of a "willingness to pour forth
+unmitigated rot, which constitutes in me the true spirit of
+correspondence." For all that, his letters, grave or gay, remain among
+the most delightful reading in existence; flavoured with his quaintest
+conceits, endowed with his most delicate turns of phrase, and often
+tempered with that "something of the Shorter Catechist" to which Henley
+had alluded.
+
+For, undoubtedly, as time went on, although Stevenson continued to
+"combine the face of a boy with the distinguished bearing of a man of
+the world," he was gradually exchanging the "streak of Puck" and the
+capricious unconventions of the born Bohemian, for something graver and
+more mature,--a tendency almost towards the didactic. "'Tis a strange
+world indeed," he had commented, "but there is a manifest God for those
+who care to look for Him." And now, "with the passing of years," he
+observed, "there grows more and more upon me that belief in the
+kindness of this scheme of things, and the goodness of our veiled God,
+which is an excellent and pacifying compensation." He was suffering,
+and in all probability would perpetually suffer, from "that sharp
+ferule of calamity under which we are all God's scholars till we die":
+but his patience was impregnable, and his desire to leave a brave
+example bore him constant company. "To suffer," said he, "sets a keen
+edge on what remains of the agreeable," and he prepared to enjoy with
+equal zest all pleasures which were still permitted to him.
+
+As he put away his writing materials, and descended once more to his
+beloved piano, his father and mother came in. They were living in
+Bournemouth to be near their only son. The old lighthouse engineer,
+whose father had built the Bell Rock, who had served under his brother
+Alan in the building of Skerryvore, "the noblest of all extant
+sea-lights," who had himself erected Dhu Heartach, was now palpably
+failing. The spectacle of a stern and honest man slowly evacuating all
+that he had held of personal strength, was, to his son Louis, a
+poignantly pathetic one. Their disagreements had been very many and
+deep-rooted, dating from even before that "dreadful evening walk" in
+Stevenson's youth, when, "on being tightly cross-questioned," the lad
+who had been trained for a civil engineer, and had "worked in a
+carpenter's shop and had a brass foundry, and hung about wood-yards and
+the like," confessed that he cared for nothing but literature,--"no
+profession!" as his father contemptuously replied. They had differed
+on almost every conceivable topic open to their discussion,--yet here,
+in the fulness of time, they were at peace together,--the austere old
+man in his second childhood, and the chronic invalid who "must live as
+though he were walking on eggs." Innumerable ineffaceable traits of
+similarity bound one to the other; at bottom of all the bygone angers
+lay a permanent bedrock of mutual love. And perhaps the nearing vision
+of death which terminated all vistas for both of them, exercised its
+usual effect, of calm, and _laisser-faire_, and the equalisation of
+things: for it is probable that no man has a just sense of
+proportionate values until he stands in the presence of death.
+
+Stevenson had often alluded, as a matter of personal knowledge, to his
+constant prescience of mortality, and how it affected a man's thoughts
+of life. Very seldom has the view of the confirmed invalid, the doomed
+consumptive, been put forth to the world with the frankness with which
+Stevenson invested it. He has been sometimes charged with a certain
+lack of reticence: but in this matter, unquestionably, his candour was
+to the benefitting of mankind: to whom these close views of the
+inevitable end are rarely possible under such deliberate and
+clear-headed conditions.
+
+There is nothing maudlin, nothing hypochondriacal, about Stevenson's
+treatment of this subject: the same cheerful philosophy bears him up,
+the same vitality of joy. It is hardly to be wondered at, that some
+critics handled him seriously, on account of his lightheartedness in
+the august shadow of the last enemy,--and his inveterate optimism in
+the face of all calamities. "He jests at scars who never felt a
+wound," they practically told him,--and could hardly be persuaded to
+credit the paradox that the man who preached in season and out of
+season, the gospel of that "cheery old Pagan, Hope," was not a denizen
+of the open-air,--healthy, athletic, vigorous, incapable of realising
+the maladies incident to man,--instead of an emaciated, bed-ridden
+creature, whose smallest pleasures must be measured, so to speak, in a
+medicine-glass. But, "It is something after all," he has said, "to
+leave a brave example": and in that he triumphantly succeeded. For the
+opportunities of meteoric heroisms are few and far between; but every
+hour beholds the need of those obscurer braveries which may be born of
+pain and suffering....
+
+In _Ordered South_ and other well-known essays, he shows the gradual
+relaxation of the ties which bind a man to terrestrial things,--and the
+curiously significant alteration in his regard for the facts of
+life,--from the sower in the dank spring furrows, to the sight of
+little children with their long possibilities before them.
+
+Stevenson had no children of his own. His stepson, Lloyd Osbourne,
+then at school in Bournemouth, was destined to become his friend and
+collaborator: but it is doubtful that he cared for children as such.
+The average small folk, "dragged about in a pleasing stupor by nurses,"
+were very far remote from that superabundant vitality nursed in an
+attenuated physique, which had sat up with a shawl over its shoulders,
+so many tedious months in childhood, when its principal _habitat_ was
+"The Land of Counterpane" and other regions mapped out in the great and
+glorious world of Make-Believe.
+
+
+_Painting by W. Hatherell._
+
+ST. IVES DESCENDS FROM EDINBURGH CASTLE.
+
+ "The whole forces of my mind were so consumed
+ with losing hold and getting it again, that I
+ could scarce have told whether I was going up
+ or coming down."
+
+_St. Ives._
+
+[Illustration: _St. Ives_]
+
+
+For this reason, the _Child's Garden of Verses_ is not, in any real
+sense of the word, a child's book at all. It contains the exquisite
+imaginations of childhood as the grown-up man remembers them: to him
+they have the charm of the vanished past, they are the utterances of
+one who has also lived in Arcadia. But to the child, they are the very
+commonplaces of existence. To sway to and fro in a swing, "the
+pleasantest thing a child can do,"--to bring home treasures from field
+and wood, nuts and wooden whistles, and some all-precious
+unidentifiable stone, "though father denies it, I'm sure it is
+gold,"--these are everyday affairs to the country-child,--just as
+watching the lamplighter is to the town child. To read verses about
+them is but a waste of time, when one might be actively engaged in
+similar avocations. But to the grown-man who can never play with
+wooden soldiers in the garden, never be a pirate any more,--these
+reminiscences of Stevenson's are a delight unfailing. No one else has
+ever worded them quite so accurately, quite so simply: and, taken all
+for all, they are in themselves a summing-up of that most excellent
+philosophy of this author, "The world is so full of a number of things,
+I'm sure we should all be as happy as kings!" The world was indeed
+full of a number of things to R.L.S. and,--passed through the crucible
+of his own astonishing personality,--they were all, bad or good,
+transmogrified into things that make for joy.
+
+After eight o'clock dinner was over, the old folks bade
+good-night,--the father, with touching affection, kissing Louis as
+though he were a child, and murmuring, "You'll see me in the morning,
+dearie," as if still addressing that little feeble creature who had
+been kept alive with such difficulty in the old days at Edinburgh.
+
+The younger man returned to the piano-forte; it drew him like a magnet.
+For a short time he indulged in his desultory music-making, relishing
+to the uttermost every success of sound which he achieved: and the
+happiness, which was his theory of life, radiated in warm abundance
+from his richly-tinted face and glowing eyes. "It's a fine life," he
+exclaimed.
+
+At last the day's supply of energy succumbed before the imperious
+demands of this "fiery threadpaper of a man," and in deference to his
+wife's suggestion he betook himself to bed. Not necessarily to rest;
+for even in his dreams his busy brain was working, and his "Brownies,"
+as he termed them, bringing him fresh material for plots. _Dr. Jekyll_
+had been thus evolved from three scenes dreamed successively in detail,
+from which the dreamer waked with cries of horror.
+
+But he did not flinch before the coming night, and anything that it
+might bring of sickness or unrest. He thought alone upon the past
+delightful day, fraught with strenuous work and simple pleasures; and
+he petitioned, in his own words:
+
+ "If I have faltered more or less
+ In my great task of happiness;
+ If I have moved along my race
+ And shown no glorious morning face;
+ If beams from happy human eyes
+ Have moved me not; if morning skies,
+ Books, and my food, and summer rain
+ Knocked on my sullen heart in vain:--
+ Lord, Thy most pointed pleasure take
+ And stab my spirit broad awake!"
+ (_Underwoods._)
+
+
+His wife hovered around him with gentle ministrations, as suddenly
+out-wearied, Robert Louis Stevenson extended his long, lean form to a
+possible repose. There was not, perhaps, a cheerfuller man that night
+in England.
+
+The sea hummed at the foot of the chine, with that soft and dove-like
+purring of the South-coast sea; the doves made answer with a vibrant
+cooing in the middle distance of the twilight garden. Spring buds of
+pear-trees and cherry-trees globed themselves stealthily into blossom;
+a delicate latent energy was consciously present in the air--the rising
+of sap and revivification of seed, all the mysterious hidden progresses
+of April. And the man whose ways were set in a perpetual convergence
+towards the doors of death, waved, so to speak, a blithe recognition to
+the myriad hosts of life.
+
+"O toiling hands of mortals! O unwearied feet, travelling ye know not
+whither! Soon, soon, it seems to you, you must come forth on some
+conspicuous hilltop, and but a little way further, against the setting
+sun, descry the spires of El Dorado. Little do ye know your own
+blessedness; for to travel hopefully is a better thing than to arrive,
+and the true success is labour." (_Virginibus Puerisque._)
+
+
+
+The author desires to acknowledge the kindness of Messrs. Cassell &
+Co., in allowing short extracts to be made from _The Master of
+Ballantrae_, _The Wrecker_, and _Catriona_; also to thank Mr. William
+Heinemann for a similar courtesy with regard to _St. Ives_, and Messrs.
+Chatto & Windus for their permission to include various quotations from
+_Virginibus Puerisque_, _Underwoods_, and _Prince Otto_.
+
+
+
+ Printed by The Bushey Colour Press (André & Sleigh, Ltd.),
+ Bushey, Herts., England.
+
+
+
+
+[Illustration: Rear cover]
+
+
+
+
+
+
+
+
+
+
+
+End of Project Gutenberg's A Day with Robert Louis Stevenson, by Maurice Clare
+
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+<meta http-equiv="Content-Type" content="text/html; charset=ISO-8859-1" />
+
+<title>
+The Project Gutenberg E-text of A Day with Robert Louis Stevenson,
+by Maurice Clare
+</title>
+
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+
+Project Gutenberg's A Day with Robert Louis Stevenson, by Maurice Clare
+
+This eBook is for the use of anyone anywhere in the United States and most
+other parts of the world at no cost and with almost no restrictions
+whatsoever. You may copy it, give it away or re-use it under the terms of
+the Project Gutenberg License included with this eBook or online at
+www.gutenberg.org. If you are not located in the United States, you'll have
+to check the laws of the country where you are located before using this ebook.
+
+Title: A Day with Robert Louis Stevenson
+
+Author: Maurice Clare
+
+Release Date: September 28, 2016 [EBook #53165]
+
+Language: English
+
+Character set encoding: ISO-8859-1
+
+*** START OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK A DAY WITH ROBERT LOUIS STEVENSON ***
+
+
+
+
+Produced by Al Haines
+
+
+
+
+
+</pre>
+
+
+<p><br /><br /></p>
+
+<p class="capcenter">
+<a id="img-cover-f"></a>
+<img class="imgcenter" src="images/img-cover-f.jpg" alt="Cover art" />
+<br />
+Cover art
+</p>
+
+<p><br /><br /></p>
+
+<p class="capcenter">
+<a id="img-000"></a>
+<img class="imgcenter" src="images/img-000.jpg" alt="Robert Louis Stevenson" />
+<br />
+Robert Louis Stevenson
+</p>
+
+<p><br /><br /></p>
+
+<p class="noindent">
+<i>Painting by W. Hatherell.</i>
+</p>
+
+<p class="noindent">
+"Took down the folds of her hair&mdash;shook it<br />
+round her face and the pool repeated her<br />
+thus veiled."
+</p>
+
+<p class="noindent">
+<i>Prince Otto.</i>
+</p>
+
+<p><br /></p>
+
+<p class="capcenter">
+<a id="img-front-t"></a>
+<a href="images/img-front.jpg">
+<img class="imgcenter" src="images/img-front-t.jpg" alt="Prince Otto" />
+</a>
+<br />
+<i>Prince Otto</i>
+</p>
+
+<h1>
+<br /><br />
+ A DAY WITH<br />
+ ROBERT LOUIS<br />
+ STEVENSON<br />
+</h1>
+
+<p><br /></p>
+
+<p class="t2b">
+ BY MAURICE CLARE<br />
+</p>
+
+<p><br /><br /></p>
+
+<p class="t2">
+ LONDON<br />
+ HODDER &amp; STOUGHTON<br />
+ 1910<br />
+</p>
+
+<p><br /><br /><br /></p>
+
+<p class="noindent">
+ <i>In the same Series.<br />
+ &nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;Dickens.<br />
+ &nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;Thackeray.</i><br />
+</p>
+
+<p><br /><br /><br /></p>
+
+<p><a id="chap01"></a></p>
+
+<h3>
+A DAY WITH STEVENSON.
+</h3>
+
+<p><br /></p>
+
+<p>
+Supposing that in the month
+of April, 1886, you had arrived,
+a guest foreseen, at the pleasant
+ivy-muffled dwelling in Bournemouth,
+which had recently adopted
+the name of Skerryvore, and
+that you had been permitted to
+enter its doors&mdash;you might account yourself a
+somewhat favoured person. For the master
+of the house, "that rickety and cloistered
+spectre," as he termed himself, the "pallid
+brute who lived in Skerryvore like a weevil
+in a biscuit," might be invisible for the
+nonce&mdash;shut upstairs, forbidden even to speak for
+fear of inducing hemorrhage. Or again, you
+might yourself be afflicted with an obvious
+cold: in which case you would not be admitted
+into his presence, lest you left contagion of
+that cold.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+But if fate befriended you, you would
+chance upon the most remarkable personality,
+it might be, that you had yet encountered. A
+lean, long flat-chested man, gracefully emphatic
+of gesture&mdash;pacing up and down the room as he
+talked&mdash;burning with hectic energy&mdash;a man of
+rich brown tints in hair and eyes and skin:
+mutable, mirthful, brilliant&mdash;above all "vital,"
+as he had described himself, "wholly vital with
+a buoyance of life" which had upborne him
+hitherto over the crest of most tumultuous distresses.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+Robert Louis Stevenson was now thirty-six
+years old: and ever since his sixth year, when,
+as his mother recorded in her diary, he dreamed
+that he "heard the noise of pens writing," his
+aim had been set unswervingly toward the one
+goal. Born of a strong and strenuous family,
+the great lighthouse builders of the north, he
+was not, like them, intent upon the subjugation
+of obstinate stone, the ordering and ordaining
+of rocks and seas. Dhu Heartach and the Bell
+Rock and Skerryvore he could admire at a
+distance: but the material which cried aloud to
+him for mastery, was much more plastic,&mdash;yet,
+to him, no less stubborn. "I imagine," he
+declared, "nobody ever had such pains to learn
+a trade as I had; but I slogged at it day in and
+day out." His fastidious soul refused to be
+contented with a facile and slipshod utterance.
+A passionate quest: after <i>le mot propre</i>, which had
+led him, in his own phrase, to "play the sedulus
+ape" to all the great prose writers of the
+past&mdash;and a sense of style such as no man had ever so
+anxiously and assiduously developed in
+himself&mdash;these had achieved their own reward.
+"'Thanks to my dire industry," said Stevenson,
+"I have done more with smaller gifts than
+almost any man of letters in the world."
+</p>
+
+<p>
+And this was a just pride: for there was
+no branch of literature in which he could not
+admirably acquit himself. So many years a
+struggler in obscurity, with small hopes, few
+successes, little encouragement&mdash;battling with
+continuous and crippling maladies,&mdash;this
+indomitable artist, by sheer dint of "dire industry,"
+now suddenly stood forth in full blaze of
+public recognition. The author of <i>Virginibus
+Puerisque</i>, <i>Treasure Island</i>, <i>Prince Otto</i>, <i>The Child's
+Garden of Verse</i>, and <i>Dr. Jekyll</i>, was very much
+a man to be reckoned with.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+Probably few modern books have met with
+such instantaneous and triumphant success as
+<i>Treasure Island</i> and <i>Dr. Jekyll</i>. The first, after
+running its course, unannounced and comparatively
+unrecognized, the serial of an obscure
+author, in <i>Young Folks' Paper</i>, was published
+in book form,&mdash;and Stevenson, like Byron,
+"awoke to find himself famous." The honours
+which he had failed to obtain with all the
+dainty humour, all the valiant fatalism, of
+<i>Virginibus Puerisque</i>, had been accorded
+without stint to <i>Treasure Island</i>. It was a tense
+and stimulating piece of pure adventure. The
+authentic air of the eighteenth century breathed
+through every sentence of it: and its fine
+flavour of dare-devil romance kindled even
+sober statesmen, such as Mr. Gladstone, to a
+very furore of avidity in devouring its
+breathless pages.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+As for <i>Dr. Jekyll</i>, that gruesome
+work&mdash;literally the product of a nightmare&mdash;had been
+quoted in pulpits, discussed in newspapers, read
+by everybody,&mdash;it had taken the world by
+storm. Yet Stevenson's head was not turned
+by his tardily-won success: with his customary
+<i>sang froid</i>, he took things as they came, failures
+and triumphs, and met each alike with smiling gallantry.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+The motives which had led him into authorship&mdash;or
+rather forced him, despite all stress
+and hindrance of froward circumstances,&mdash;were
+as curiously varied as his own nature; and it
+was these motives which still drove him hard
+and incessantly. To fame he was perhaps not
+wholly indifferent. No author sits so austerely
+aloft as to disdain popular applause altogether.
+Yet a born stylist and a conscious artist, like
+Stevenson, knew that his most finished work
+was above and beyond the appreciation of the
+general public. For money,&mdash;though it was a
+necessity of life to him, and although, with all
+his recent triumphs, he was not at present
+earning more than £400 a year,&mdash;for money he
+did not care, except as a means to an end.
+"Wealth is only useful for two things," he
+said, "a yacht and a string quartet. Except
+for these, I hold that £700 a year is as much as
+a man can possibly want." Still, in declaring,
+"I do not write for the public," he added with
+engaging candour, "I do write for money, a
+nobler deity," and this, to a certain extent was
+true. It was for money only, no doubt, that he
+was now undertaking, against the grain, that
+"romance of tushery," <i>The Black Arrow</i>, a tale
+with a mediæval setting in which he felt himself
+ill at ease. But "most of all," he allowed, "I
+write for myself; not perhaps any more noble,
+but both more intelligent and nearer home."
+</p>
+
+<p>
+And that a man in such difficulties of health
+and finance, and so precarious a position, should
+have the courage of his own determined artistry,
+was in itself sufficiently remarkable: but the
+result more than justified his choice.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+All the morning, Stevenson had been
+upstairs writing: probably after a bad night;
+very likely in what any other man would term
+a totally unfit condition. Under any and all
+circumstances, he continued to write unflinchingly;
+racked by coughing, reeling with weakness,
+with his right arm in a sling, and his left
+hand holding the pen,&mdash;sitting up in bed with
+a clinical thermometer in his mouth; and yet,
+as he declared, "I like my life all the same
+... I should bear false witness if I did not
+declare life happy." ... He was, in his own
+words, "made for a contest, and the powers
+have so willed that my battlefield should be
+this dingy, inglorious one of the bed and the
+physic bottle."
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"To declare life happy," became, in fact,
+his literary mission,&mdash;the condensed philosophy
+of his gay, inveterate courage. "I believe that
+literature should give joy," was his maxim,
+"one dank, dispirited word is harmful,&mdash;a
+crime of <i>lèse-humanité</i>." This brave and cheerful
+outlook is evident in all his essays,&mdash;it is,
+so to speak, a glorified and artistic
+Mark-Tapleyism, all-pervading, unimpugnable, ready
+to survive the most malevolent accidents of
+life, the crowning tragedy of death itself. And
+so you find the "chronic sickist," as he termed
+himself, still ready, in all but body, for great
+risks and inspiriting adventures, and&mdash;through
+a mist of pain&mdash;leading forlorn hopes with a
+waving sword of flame. You hear him
+proclaiming that:
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"All who have meant good work with their
+whole hearts, have done good work, although
+they may die before they have the time to sign
+it. Every heart that has beat strong and
+cheerfully has left a hopeful impulse behind it
+in the world, and bettered the tradition of
+mankind. And even if death catch people,
+like an open pitfall, and in mid-career, laying
+out vast projects, and planning monstrous
+foundations, flushed with hope, and their
+mouths full of boastful language, they should
+be at once tripped up and silenced; is there
+not something brave and spirited in such a
+termination? and does not life go down with
+a better grace, foaming in full body over a
+precipice, than miserable struggling to an end
+in sandy deltas?" (<i>Virginibus Puerisque</i>.)
+</p>
+
+<p>
+And to him, above all, applied his own
+triumphant lines, those which he addressed to
+W. E. Henley, another writer, a man of like
+courageous outlook, who, like himself, "in the
+fell grip of circumstances, had not winced nor
+cried aloud:
+</p>
+
+<p class="poem">
+ "... Small the pipe; but oh! do thou,<br />
+ Peak-faced and suffering piper, blow therein<br />
+ The dirge of heroes dead; and to these sick,<br />
+ These dying, sound the triumph over death.<br />
+ Behold! each greatly breathes; each tastes a joy<br />
+ Unknown before in dying; for each knows<br />
+ A hero dies with him&mdash;though unfulfilled,<br />
+ Yet conquering truly&mdash;and not dies in vain."<br />
+</p>
+
+<p><br /></p>
+
+<p>
+At present he was engaged upon <i>Kidnapped</i>,
+that admirable piece of fiction which he had
+begun, "partly as a lark and partly as a
+pot-boiler." It was a relief, after the concentrated
+horror of <i>Dr. Jekyll</i>, to escape into the Scottish
+heather-scent and to feel the salt sea-wind
+whistling through the cordage of <i>Kidnapped</i>.
+</p>
+
+<p><br /></p>
+
+<p class="noindent">
+<i>Painting by W. Hatherell.</i>
+</p>
+
+<p class="noindent">
+"She stood on the bulwarks and held on by a<br />
+stay, the wind blowing in her petticoats.
+</p>
+
+<p class="noindent">
+<i>Catriona.</i>
+</p>
+
+<p><br /></p>
+
+<p class="capcenter">
+<a id="img-012-t"></a>
+<a href="images/img-012.jpg">
+<img class="imgcenter" src="images/img-012-t.jpg" alt="Catriona" />
+</a>
+<br />
+<i>Catriona</i>
+</p>
+
+<p><br /></p>
+
+<p>
+Stevenson was desirous to "get free of this
+prison-yard of the abominably ugly, where I
+take my daily exercise with my contemporaries." Possibly
+he recognised that the amazing
+popularity of <i>Jekyll</i> had been due to the morbid
+attractiveness of its subject, rather than to its
+merits of craftsmanship; for, as he had averred,
+"I know that good work sometimes hits; but,
+with my hand on my heart, I think it is an
+accident." But now he was at liberty to give
+play to his infinite variety upon a true boys'
+book,&mdash;a story to satisfy the inveterate
+boyishness of his own heart. "Of the romance of
+boyhood and adolescence, it has been said, he
+is an unsurpassed master ... the philosophy
+of life developed in both his essays and romances
+is that rather of a gifted boy than a mature
+man." (J. W. Mackail.) And even the girls
+of Stevenson's imagination have been accused
+of being "boys in petticoats." The phrase has
+reason. "I have never admired a girl," he
+wrote, and again, "I have never pleased
+myself with any women of mine." The other sex
+remained for him, throughout, a mystery which
+he hardly cared to solve,&mdash;a sealed book which
+he was not desirous to open. "Of the two
+eternal factors in the destiny of man, warfare
+and love," although he allowed that "to love
+is the great amulet which makes the world a
+garden," he preferred to deal almost exclusively
+with the warfare.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+And yet one women had played a very
+important part in Stevenson's life: and it was
+practically with his marriage that the tide of
+his fortunes had changed. His wife,&mdash;"trusty,
+dusky, vivid, true," was his very <i>alter ego</i>: with
+"a character" (to quote Mr. Sidney Colvin)
+"as strong, interesting, and romantic almost
+as his own: an inseparable sharer of all his
+thoughts, the most shrewd and stimulating of
+critics: and in sickness, despite her own
+precarious health, the most devoted and most
+efficient of nurses." To while away the weary
+hours of illness, Mrs. Stevenson made up
+stories to amuse him,&mdash;and subsequently the
+husband and wife would write them out
+together. She, with her "eyes of gold and
+bramble-dew," was literally all-in-all to him as
+companion, helpmate, friend;&mdash;and far&mdash;how
+infinitely far!&mdash;above the ideal wife whom he
+had described so adroitly,&mdash;in his bachelor
+days,&mdash;that woman who should have "a fine
+touch for the affections," and who should at
+least be sufficiently talented to avoid boring her
+life-long comrade. The character of the ideal
+wife, as there indicated,&mdash;apt at gracious
+compromises, possessor of a cheerful fluent
+tongue,&mdash;was very obviously set forth by a man who
+had never yet been stirred by the sharp throbs
+of an imperative emotion. And now that
+Stevenson realised what love in its depth and
+breadth might mean, it held a certain sanctity
+for him,&mdash;he was loth to speak of it, as to write
+of it. It was a marvel that had befallen him
+personally: but for other people, it might still
+perhaps, be no more than that gentle domesticated
+affection which he had portrayed with
+such amiable humour. But there was one
+point in which he, consciously or unconsciously
+insisted, in his <i>desiderata</i> of the female
+character.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"It always warms a man," he had declared,
+"to see a woman brave," and he saw it daily
+in his wife. Therefore it came about, that,
+unversed in women&mdash;as Stevenson unquestionably
+was, he was able to endow his heroines
+with a touch of gallant boyishness, a hint of
+the heroic&mdash;and if they failed in
+flesh-and-blood-<i>vraisemblance</i>,
+they had that "steel-true,
+blade-straight" quality which he adored in the
+women he had chosen.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+You will notice this courageous virtue in
+all of them, rich and poor; from <i>Catriona</i>, that
+"tall, pretty, tender figure of a maiden, when,
+having assured her father's escape from prison
+by a bold stratagem, she arrives a fugitive and
+an exile at Helvoetsluys, and lands from the
+staggering side of the <i>Rose</i> into the little boat
+below;&mdash;when, in David Balfour's words:
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"I began to think I had made a fool's
+bargain, that it was merely impossible Catriona
+should be got on board to me, and that I stood
+to be set ashore in Helvoet all by myself
+... But this was to reckon without the lass's courage
+... Up she stood on the bulwarks and held
+by a stay, the wind blowing in her petticoats,
+which made the enterprise more dangerous,
+and gave us rather more a view of her stockings
+than would be thought genteel in cities"&mdash;(<i>Catriona.</i>)
+</p>
+
+<p class="noindent">
+to Seraphina in <i>Prince Otto</i>, still inherently
+valorous in that desperate flight through the
+forest: where:
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"At length when she was well weary, she
+came upon a wide and shallow pool. Stones
+stood in it, like islands; bulrushes fringed the
+coast; the floor was paved with pine needles;
+and the pines themselves, whose roots made
+promontories, looked down silently on their
+green images. She crept to the margin and
+beheld herself with wonder, a hollow and
+bright-eyed phantom, in the ruins of her palace
+robe ... She addressed herself to make a
+toilette by that forest mirror, washed herself
+pure from all the stains of her adventure, took
+off her jewels and wrapped them in her handkerchief,
+re-arranged the tatters of her dress, and
+took down the folds of her hair. She shook it
+round her face, and the pool repeated her thus
+veiled." (<i>Prince Otto.</i>)
+</p>
+
+<p>
+Clara Huddlestone, in the <i>Pavilion on the
+Links</i>, repeats the same undauntable note: Olalla
+is inexorable in moral courage of renunciation,
+even the weeping Blanche, in the <i>Sieur de
+Malétroit's Door</i>, has the mettle of some small
+creature at bay.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+The charm of Stevenson's heroines is, in
+short, a cold charm; nor does he often accord
+them the assistance of a personal description.
+But they are finely tempered, of the best Toledo
+steel, and owing to their boyish character, there
+is no very obvious gap in those novels where
+they are conspicuously absent, such as <i>The Ebb
+Tide</i>, <i>The Wreckers</i>, and <i>The Master of Ballantrae</i>.
+In the latter, indeed, there is a slight "female
+interest," but a stronger personality in the
+heroine must inevitably have changed or
+coloured the whole course of the book: and
+one cannot but detect a certain vacuum, where
+at least some emotion might have lifted a
+haggard head, in the character of Mrs. Henry,&mdash;even
+in that scene, surcharged with hidden
+explosive possibilities, when the author
+describes how:
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"The Master played upon that little ballad,
+and upon those who heard him, like an instrument,
+and seemed now upon the point of failing,
+and now to conquer his distress, so that the
+words and music seemed to pour out of his own
+heart and his own past, and to be aimed directly
+at Mrs. Henry.... When it came to an end
+we all sat silent for a time: he had chosen the
+dusk of the afternoon, so that none could see
+his neighbour's face: but it seemed as if we
+held our breathing: only my old lord cleared
+his throat. The first to move was the singer,
+who got to his feet suddenly and softly, and
+went and walked softly to and fro in the low
+end of the hall." (<i>The Master of Ballantrae.</i>)
+</p>
+
+<p><br /></p>
+
+<p>
+But Mrs. Henry plays a very minor part
+in the marring or making, here, of two men's
+lives: it is a rôle of <i>vis inertiæ</i> at best. And,
+indeed, when all is said, what shall a petticoat
+be if not irrelevant, among the clash of steel
+and smoke of pistols, in an atmosphere
+permeated by Spanish doubloons or illicit piratical
+treasure? Stevenson's infallible artistic
+instinct led him to keep the adventure-story
+pendant upon the deeds of men, and the eager
+mistakes of boys; and a certain curious
+penchant for the squalid, the submerged, the
+picturesque, brought him by choice into such
+company as no heroine should enter&mdash;that of
+Villon, for instance, and John Silver, and
+Herrick the cockney vagabond. "The spice
+of life is battle," he said; and his life, and his
+books, were brimful of battles with foes or
+with fortune.
+</p>
+
+<p><br /></p>
+
+<p class="noindent">
+<i>Painting by W. Hatherell.</i>
+</p>
+
+<p class="noindent">
+"'The words and music seemed to pour out of<br />
+his own heart and his own past and to be<br />
+aimed directly at Mrs. Henry."
+</p>
+
+<p class="noindent">
+<i>Master of Ballantrae.</i>
+</p>
+
+<p><br /></p>
+
+<p class="capcenter">
+<a id="img-020-t"></a>
+<a href="images/img-020.jpg">
+<img class="imgcenter" src="images/img-020-t.jpg" alt="Master of Ballantrae" />
+</a>
+<br />
+<i>Master of Ballantrae</i>
+</p>
+
+<p><br /></p>
+
+<p>
+The open-air life which he had perforce
+abandoned, the joy of physical strength and
+hair-breadth 'scape, could still be his by proxy.
+He revelled in delineating his ideal man:
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"Being a true lover of living, a fellow with
+something pushing and spontaneous in his inside,
+he must, like any other soldier, in any other
+stirring, deadly warfare, push on at his best
+pace until he touch the goal. 'A peerage or
+Westminster Abbey!' cried Nelson in his
+bright, boyish, heroic manner. These are great
+incentives; not for any of these, but for the
+plain satisfaction of living, of being about their
+business in some sort or other, do the brave,
+serviceable men of every nation tread down
+the nettle danger, and pass flyingly over all
+the stumbling-blocks of prudence." (<i>Virginibus
+Puerisque.</i>)
+</p>
+
+<p><br /></p>
+
+<p>
+The tramp of horse-hoofs, the clank of the
+capstan, the door ajar&mdash;a thousand sights and
+sounds were but symbolisms to him of some
+mysterious by-way of adventure to be followed
+up, quick with latent possibilities of romance;
+and from one word, one name, he could evolve
+a whole intricate plot. With the simplest of
+sentences, he could electrify the startled reader,
+as when in <i>The Wrecker</i>, where the desperate
+castaways sit gambling on the desert island, and
+one suddenly cries aloud, "Sail ho!"
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"All turned at the cry,&mdash;and there, in the
+wild light of the morning, heading straight for
+Midway Reef, was the brig <i>Flying Scud</i> of
+Hull." (<i>The Wrecker.</i>)
+</p>
+
+<p><br /></p>
+
+<p>
+On that moment the whole tale hangs as on
+a pivot. All its involution and evolution, all
+its intricate and tangled clues, lead&mdash;backwards
+or forwards&mdash;to this one swift breathless sight.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+His morning's work accomplished, the tall
+gaunt man came downstairs, literally to play
+awhile. After weeks, it might be, of enforced
+seclusion in his room, his eye rested pleasurably
+upon the various attractive objects which
+almost seemed like new to him. Stevenson,&mdash;the
+avowed evader of personal property, the
+rolling-stone that had so long refused to gather
+moss,&mdash;was now, under a woman's tender
+surveillance, surrounded with charm and comfort.
+"Our drawing room," he maintained, "is a
+place so beautiful that it's like eating to sit
+down in it. No other room is so lovely in the
+world ... I blush for the figure I cut in such
+a bower." The garden, Mrs. Stevenson's
+special pleasure, but one in which her husband
+did not share, was very lovely, with a lawn,
+and heather-bank, and a half-acre of land,
+where a little stream ran down a "chine" full
+of rhododendrons. A large dovecot figured in
+the garden; and there also "Boguey," the
+Stevensons' dog, was buried, to whom no other
+dog had ever been deemed a worthy successor.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+Stevenson, his clothes hanging loosely on
+his emaciated figure, and his hands&mdash;"wonderful
+hands&mdash;long and fragile, like those in the
+early portraits of Velasquez," lingered lovingly
+over the keys. For a while he amused himself
+by picking out, note by note, the old-world
+dance measures of Lully and Rameau; those
+gavottes, rigadoons and minuets, which
+conveyed to him the indefinable <i>pot-pourri</i>-like,
+flavour of his favourite eighteenth century,
+embued with a certain stately dignity, "the
+periwig feeling," he called it, as of lords and
+ladies treading courtly measures. Stevenson
+was passionately fond of classical music, but he
+had never attained to any facility of execution.
+And when he grew tired with his efforts as an
+interpreter of Lully, he turned to "pickling," as
+he called it&mdash;composing, that is to say, after a
+fashion, with "the manly and melodious
+forefinger." The fact that he had invariably failed
+to master the rudiments of theory, in no wise
+deterred him; on the contrary, difficulties
+rather enhanced his delight. "Books are of
+no use," he avowed, "they tell you how to
+write in four parts, and that cannot be done
+by man." So he continued to "pickle" with
+a light heart, and to enjoy consecutive fifths
+and other theoretical delinquencies with an
+enthusiasm worthy of the most modern composer.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+Nothing but the lunch hour brought his
+musical experiments to a close. Stevenson,
+who had, in his own words, "been obliged to
+strip himself, one after another, of all the
+pleasures that he had chosen, except smoking"
+(and indeed, he was smoking cigarettes all day
+long) by no means disdained the pleasures of
+the table. Not, perhaps, in the role of a
+gourmet&mdash;but as an artist in the more recondite
+delicacies of taste and smell. "To detect the
+flavour of an olive is no less a piece of human
+perfection than to find beauty in the colours of
+a sunset," he observed; he coupled the flavour
+of wine with the beauty of the dawn, and
+declared that we do not recognise at its full
+value the great part in life that is played by
+eating and drinking. "There is a romance
+about the matter after all," he observed.
+"Probably the table has more devotees than love;
+and I am sure food is more generally
+entertaining than scenery." It was the "romance of
+the matter" that appealed to him; especially
+the colour, and savour, and poetical tradition
+of wine. "Books, and tobacco jars, and some
+old Burgundy as red as a November sunset,
+and as fragrant as a violet in April"&mdash;these,
+he thought, should suffice the most luxurious.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+After lunch, if he anticipated an exhausting
+evening, he went to sleep&mdash;at a moment's
+notice&mdash;and after a short, sound repose, was
+as eager as ever to resume his pianoforte
+amusements; which he continued until friends
+arrived.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+At the age of four-and-twenty, Stevenson
+had noted down his three chief wishes. "First,
+good health: secondly, a small competence:
+thirdly, <i>O Du lieber Gott!</i> friends." The first:
+wish was irrevocably denied: the second was
+only just beginning to be granted, the guerdon
+of unresting toil: the third petition had been
+abundantly answered. Never was a man more
+happy in his friends; or one who made them so
+instantaneously and without effort. "He had
+only to speak," said one friend, "in order to
+be recognised in the first minute for a witty
+and charming gentleman, and in the second,
+for a man of genius." Some, indeed, like
+Mr. Edmund Gosse, came home dazzled and
+astounded, saying, as Constance does of Arthur,
+"Was ever such a gracious creature born?" His
+expression, of mingled tenderness and
+mirth, his "scholarly and eclectic
+presence"&mdash;together with his picturesque, velvet-coated
+appearance, and his flashing flow of words,
+combined to make a man so attractive and so
+unique as could command all love at will. And
+the friends were very many and very notable,
+who haunted Skerryvore. First and foremost
+was "Bob," Mr. R. A. M. Stevenson, the
+poet's first cousin, the brilliant art critic: "the
+man likest and most unlike to me," as
+R.L.S. described him. "Bob's" sister, Mrs. de Mattos,
+and her child were frequent visitors; then there
+were celebrities from London: such as Sargent
+the painter, William Archer, Sidney Colvin,
+W. E. Henley, Henry James; and again
+friends residing in the neighbourhood of
+Bournemouth; the poet Sir Henry Taylor, and his
+family; Sir Percy Shelley and his wife. These
+latter, indeed, regarded Stevenson almost in the
+light of a son. He struck them as bearing an
+extraordinary resemblance to Percy Bysshe
+Shelley; less, perhaps, in lineaments than in
+figure and in mind; and in consequence of this
+similarity, they held him very dear.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+But to all he was the same bewildering
+charming host, the man who variously displayed,
+to quote W. E. Henley:
+</p>
+
+<p class="poem">
+ "A deal of Ariel, just a streak of Puck,<br />
+ Much Antony, of Hamlet most of all,&mdash;"<br />
+</p>
+
+<p class="noindent">
+And combined with these curiously versatile
+fruits, "something of the Shorter Catechist."
+</p>
+
+<p>
+Generous in criticism, kind in praise, grave
+and humorous in rapid transition, the amazing
+scope and variety of Stevenson's writings were
+excelled by the scope and variety of his talk.
+"There was no part of the writer that was not
+visibly present in the man." (Graham Balfour.) He
+had laid down his opinion that "there can
+be no fairer ambition than to excel in talk; to
+be affable, gay, ready, clear and welcome." But
+none save those who were privileged to
+hear him, as with quick, impetuous gestures,
+like a Southern foreigner, he emphasised his
+phrases, could realise the power, the versatility,
+the inexpressible, irrepressible charm with
+which the author could fulfil his "fair ambition."
+</p>
+
+<p>
+When the visitors had severally taken
+their departure, the strong resonant voice,
+with its Scottish accent and rich, full tones still
+ringing in their ears,&mdash;Stevenson had suffered
+no abatement in the stream of his exuberant
+mental vitality. The excitement of
+conversation had, if anything, keyed him up; and
+presently, for the writing of a few unavoidable
+letters, he betook himself to his study; "the
+study where a smiling God beholds each day
+my stage of labour trod," and sate himself
+down there with reluctance.
+</p>
+
+<p><br /></p>
+
+<p class="noindent">
+<i>Painting by W. Hatherell.</i>
+</p>
+
+<p class="noindent">
+"All turned at the cry, and there in the wild<br />
+light of the morning heaving straight for<br />
+midway reef was the brig <i>Flying Scud</i> of<br />
+Hull."
+</p>
+
+<p class="noindent">
+<i>The Wrecker.</i>
+</p>
+
+<p><br /></p>
+
+<p class="capcenter">
+<a id="img-030-t"></a>
+<a href="images/img-030.jpg">
+<img class="imgcenter" src="images/img-030-t.jpg" alt="The Wrecker" />
+</a>
+<br />
+<i>The Wrecker</i>
+</p>
+
+<p><br /></p>
+
+<p>
+Correspondence, as a rule, he found but an
+irksome affair; unless conducted upon his own
+whimsical lines. "I deny that letters should
+contain news&mdash;I mean mine&mdash;those of other
+people should," was his theory; and he boasted
+himself of a "willingness to pour forth unmitigated
+rot, which constitutes in me the true spirit
+of correspondence." For all that, his letters,
+grave or gay, remain among the most delightful
+reading in existence; flavoured with his
+quaintest conceits, endowed with his most
+delicate turns of phrase, and often tempered
+with that "something of the Shorter Catechist"
+to which Henley had alluded.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+For, undoubtedly, as time went on,
+although Stevenson continued to "combine the
+face of a boy with the distinguished bearing
+of a man of the world," he was gradually
+exchanging the "streak of Puck" and
+the capricious unconventions of the born
+Bohemian, for something graver and more
+mature,&mdash;a tendency almost towards the
+didactic. "'Tis a strange world indeed," he
+had commented, "but there is a manifest God
+for those who care to look for Him." And
+now, "with the passing of years," he observed,
+"there grows more and more upon me that
+belief in the kindness of this scheme of things,
+and the goodness of our veiled God, which is an
+excellent and pacifying compensation." He
+was suffering, and in all probability would
+perpetually suffer, from "that sharp ferule of
+calamity under which we are all God's scholars
+till we die": but his patience was impregnable,
+and his desire to leave a brave example bore
+him constant company. "To suffer," said he,
+"sets a keen edge on what remains of the
+agreeable," and he prepared to enjoy with
+equal zest all pleasures which were still
+permitted to him.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+As he put away his writing materials, and
+descended once more to his beloved piano, his
+father and mother came in. They were living
+in Bournemouth to be near their only son.
+The old lighthouse engineer, whose father had
+built the Bell Rock, who had served under his
+brother Alan in the building of Skerryvore,
+"the noblest of all extant sea-lights," who had
+himself erected Dhu Heartach, was now palpably
+failing. The spectacle of a stern and
+honest man slowly evacuating all that he had
+held of personal strength, was, to his son Louis,
+a poignantly pathetic one. Their disagreements
+had been very many and deep-rooted,
+dating from even before that "dreadful evening
+walk" in Stevenson's youth, when, "on being
+tightly cross-questioned," the lad who had been
+trained for a civil engineer, and had "worked
+in a carpenter's shop and had a brass foundry,
+and hung about wood-yards and the like," confessed
+that he cared for nothing but literature,&mdash;"no
+profession!" as his father contemptuously
+replied. They had differed on almost
+every conceivable topic open to their discussion,&mdash;yet
+here, in the fulness of time, they were at
+peace together,&mdash;the austere old man in his
+second childhood, and the chronic invalid who
+"must live as though he were walking on
+eggs." Innumerable ineffaceable traits of similarity
+bound one to the other; at bottom of all the
+bygone angers lay a permanent bedrock of
+mutual love. And perhaps the nearing vision
+of death which terminated all vistas for both of
+them, exercised its usual effect, of calm, and
+<i>laisser-faire</i>, and the equalisation of things: for
+it is probable that no man has a just sense of
+proportionate values until he stands in the
+presence of death.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+Stevenson had often alluded, as a matter of
+personal knowledge, to his constant prescience
+of mortality, and how it affected a man's
+thoughts of life. Very seldom has the view of
+the confirmed invalid, the doomed consumptive,
+been put forth to the world with the frankness
+with which Stevenson invested it. He has
+been sometimes charged with a certain lack of
+reticence: but in this matter, unquestionably,
+his candour was to the benefitting of mankind:
+to whom these close views of the inevitable end
+are rarely possible under such deliberate and
+clear-headed conditions.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+There is nothing maudlin, nothing hypochondriacal,
+about Stevenson's treatment of
+this subject: the same cheerful philosophy
+bears him up, the same vitality of joy. It is
+hardly to be wondered at, that some critics
+handled him seriously, on account of his
+lightheartedness in the august shadow of the last
+enemy,&mdash;and his inveterate optimism in the face
+of all calamities. "He jests at scars who never
+felt a wound," they practically told him,&mdash;and
+could hardly be persuaded to credit the paradox
+that the man who preached in season and out of
+season, the gospel of that "cheery old Pagan,
+Hope," was not a denizen of the open-air,&mdash;healthy,
+athletic, vigorous, incapable of realising
+the maladies incident to man,&mdash;instead of an
+emaciated, bed-ridden creature, whose smallest
+pleasures must be measured, so to speak, in a
+medicine-glass. But, "It is something after
+all," he has said, "to leave a brave example":
+and in that he triumphantly succeeded. For
+the opportunities of meteoric heroisms are few
+and far between; but every hour beholds the
+need of those obscurer braveries which may be
+born of pain and suffering....
+</p>
+
+<p>
+In <i>Ordered South</i> and other well-known
+essays, he shows the gradual relaxation of the
+ties which bind a man to terrestrial things,&mdash;and
+the curiously significant alteration in his
+regard for the facts of life,&mdash;from the sower in
+the dank spring furrows, to the sight of little
+children with their long possibilities before them.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+Stevenson had no children of his own.
+His stepson, Lloyd Osbourne, then at school in
+Bournemouth, was destined to become his
+friend and collaborator: but it is doubtful that
+he cared for children as such. The average
+small folk, "dragged about in a pleasing stupor
+by nurses," were very far remote from that
+superabundant vitality nursed in an attenuated
+physique, which had sat up with a shawl over
+its shoulders, so many tedious months in
+childhood, when its principal <i>habitat</i> was "The Land
+of Counterpane" and other regions mapped
+out in the great and glorious world of Make-Believe.
+</p>
+
+<p><br /></p>
+
+<p class="noindent">
+<i>Painting by W. Hatherell.</i>
+</p>
+
+<p class="noindent">
+ST. IVES DESCENDS FROM EDINBURGH CASTLE.
+</p>
+
+<p class="noindent">
+"The whole forces of my mind were so consumed<br />
+with losing hold and getting it again, that I<br />
+could scarce have told whether I was going up<br />
+or coming down."
+</p>
+
+<p class="noindent">
+<i>St. Ives.</i>
+</p>
+
+<p><br /></p>
+
+<p class="capcenter">
+<a id="img-038-t"></a>
+<a href="images/img-038.jpg">
+<img class="imgcenter" src="images/img-038-t.jpg" alt="St. Ives" />
+</a>
+<br />
+<i>St. Ives</i>
+</p>
+
+<p><br /></p>
+
+<p>
+For this reason, the <i>Child's Garden of Verses</i>
+is not, in any real sense of the word, a child's
+book at all. It contains the exquisite
+imaginations of childhood as the grown-up man
+remembers them: to him they have the charm of
+the vanished past, they are the utterances of
+one who has also lived in Arcadia. But to the
+child, they are the very commonplaces of
+existence. To sway to and fro in a swing,
+"the pleasantest thing a child can do,"&mdash;to
+bring home treasures from field and wood, nuts
+and wooden whistles, and some all-precious
+unidentifiable stone, "though father denies it,
+I'm sure it is gold,"&mdash;these are everyday affairs
+to the country-child,&mdash;just as watching the
+lamplighter is to the town child. To read
+verses about them is but a waste of time, when
+one might be actively engaged in similar
+avocations. But to the grown-man who can never
+play with wooden soldiers in the garden, never
+be a pirate any more,&mdash;these reminiscences of
+Stevenson's are a delight unfailing. No one
+else has ever worded them quite so accurately,
+quite so simply: and, taken all for all, they are
+in themselves a summing-up of that most
+excellent philosophy of this author, "The
+world is so full of a number of things, I'm sure
+we should all be as happy as kings!" The
+world was indeed full of a number of things to
+R.L.S. and,&mdash;passed through the crucible of
+his own astonishing personality,&mdash;they were
+all, bad or good, transmogrified into things
+that make for joy.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+After eight o'clock dinner was over, the
+old folks bade good-night,&mdash;the father, with
+touching affection, kissing Louis as though he
+were a child, and murmuring, "You'll see me
+in the morning, dearie," as if still addressing
+that little feeble creature who had been kept
+alive with such difficulty in the old days at
+Edinburgh.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+The younger man returned to the piano-forte;
+it drew him like a magnet. For a short
+time he indulged in his desultory music-making,
+relishing to the uttermost every success of
+sound which he achieved: and the happiness,
+which was his theory of life, radiated in warm
+abundance from his richly-tinted face and
+glowing eyes. "It's a fine life," he exclaimed.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+At last the day's supply of energy succumbed
+before the imperious demands of this
+"fiery threadpaper of a man," and in deference
+to his wife's suggestion he betook himself to bed.
+Not necessarily to rest; for even in his dreams
+his busy brain was working, and his "Brownies,"
+as he termed them, bringing him fresh material
+for plots. <i>Dr. Jekyll</i> had been thus evolved from
+three scenes dreamed successively in detail, from
+which the dreamer waked with cries of horror.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+But he did not flinch before the coming
+night, and anything that it might bring of
+sickness or unrest. He thought alone upon the
+past delightful day, fraught with strenuous work
+and simple pleasures; and he petitioned, in his
+own words:
+</p>
+
+<p class="poem">
+ "If I have faltered more or less<br />
+ In my great task of happiness;<br />
+ If I have moved along my race<br />
+ And shown no glorious morning face;<br />
+ If beams from happy human eyes<br />
+ Have moved me not; if morning skies,<br />
+ Books, and my food, and summer rain<br />
+ Knocked on my sullen heart in vain:&mdash;<br />
+ Lord, Thy most pointed pleasure take<br />
+ And stab my spirit broad awake!"<br />
+ &nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;(<i>Underwoods.</i>)<br />
+</p>
+
+<p><br /></p>
+
+<p>
+His wife hovered around him with gentle
+ministrations, as suddenly out-wearied, Robert
+Louis Stevenson extended his long, lean form
+to a possible repose. There was not, perhaps,
+a cheerfuller man that night in England.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+The sea hummed at the foot of the chine,
+with that soft and dove-like purring of the
+South-coast sea; the doves made answer with
+a vibrant cooing in the middle distance of the
+twilight garden. Spring buds of pear-trees and
+cherry-trees globed themselves stealthily into
+blossom; a delicate latent energy was
+consciously present in the air&mdash;the rising of sap
+and revivification of seed, all the mysterious
+hidden progresses of April. And the man
+whose ways were set in a perpetual
+convergence towards the doors of death, waved,
+so to speak, a blithe recognition to the myriad
+hosts of life.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"O toiling hands of mortals! O unwearied
+feet, travelling ye know not whither! Soon,
+soon, it seems to you, you must come forth on
+some conspicuous hilltop, and but a little way
+further, against the setting sun, descry the
+spires of El Dorado. Little do ye know your
+own blessedness; for to travel hopefully is a
+better thing than to arrive, and the true success
+is labour." (<i>Virginibus Puerisque.</i>)
+</p>
+
+<p><br /><br /><br /></p>
+
+<p>
+The author desires to acknowledge the
+kindness of Messrs. Cassell &amp; Co., in allowing
+short extracts to be made from <i>The Master of
+Ballantrae</i>, <i>The Wrecker</i>, and <i>Catriona</i>; also to
+thank Mr. William Heinemann for a similar
+courtesy with regard to <i>St. Ives</i>, and
+Messrs. Chatto &amp; Windus for their permission to
+include various quotations from <i>Virginibus
+Puerisque</i>, <i>Underwoods</i>, and <i>Prince Otto</i>.
+</p>
+
+<p><br /><br /></p>
+
+<p class="t4">
+ Printed by The Bushey Colour Press (André &amp; Sleigh, Ltd.),<br />
+ Bushey, Herts., England.<br />
+</p>
+
+<p><br /><br /></p>
+
+<p class="capcenter">
+<a id="img-cover-r"></a>
+<img class="imgcenter" src="images/img-cover-r.jpg" alt="Rear cover" />
+<br />
+Rear cover
+</p>
+
+<p><br /><br /><br /><br /></p>
+
+
+
+
+
+
+
+
+<pre>
+
+
+
+
+
+End of Project Gutenberg's A Day with Robert Louis Stevenson, by Maurice Clare
+
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+</body>
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+
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