a railway carriage--"the things restorative to the touch." I can't
write, confound it! That's because I am so tired with my walk....
Believe me, ever your affectionate friend,

R. L. STEVENSON.

TO CHARLES BAXTER

The "Spec." is, of course, the famous and historical debating society
(the Speculative Society) of Edinburgh University, to which Stevenson
had been elected on the strength of his conversational powers, and to
whose meetings he contributed several essays.

_Dunblane, Tuesday, 9th April 1872._

MY DEAR BAXTER,--I don't know what you mean. I know nothing about the
Standing Committee of the Spec., did not know that such a body existed,
and even if it doth exist, must sadly repudiate all association with
such "goodly fellowship." I am a "Rural Voluptuary" at present. _That_
is what is the matter with me. The Spec. may go whistle. As for "C.
Baxter, Esq.," who is he? "One Baxter, or Bagster, a secretary," I say
to mine acquaintance, "is at present disquieting my leisure with certain
illegal, uncharitable, unchristian, and unconstitutional documents
called _Business Letters: The affair is in the hands of the Police_." Do
you hear _that_, you evildoer? Sending business letters is surely a far
more hateful and slimy degree of wickedness than sending threatening
letters; the man who throws grenades and torpedoes is less malicious;
the Devil in red-hot hell rubs his hands with glee as he reckons up the
number that go forth spreading pain and anxiety with each delivery of
the post.

I have been walking to-day by a colonnade of beeches along the brawling
Allan. My character for sanity is quite gone, seeing that I cheered my
lonely way with the following, in a triumphant chaunt: "Thank God for
the grass, and the fir-trees, and the crows, and the sheep, and the
sunshine, and the shadows of the fir-trees." I hold that he is a poor
mean devil who can walk alone, in such a place and in such weather, and
doesn't set up his lungs and cry back to the birds and the river.
Follow, follow, follow me. Come hither, come hither, come hither--here
shall you see--no enemy--except a very slight remnant of winter and its
rough weather. My bedroom, when I awoke this morning, was full of
bird-songs, which is the greatest pleasure in life. Come hither, come
hither, come hither, and when you come bring the third part of the
_Earthly Paradise_; you can get it for me in Elliot's for two and
tenpence (2s. 10d.