other day--_Pulvis et Umbra_;--I wrote it with great
feeling and conviction: to me it seemed bracing and healthful, it is in
such a world (so seen by me), that I am very glad to fight out my
battle, and see some fine sunsets, and hear some excellent jests between
whiles round the camp fire. But I find that to some people this vision
of mine is a nightmare, and extinguishes all ground of faith in God or
pleasure in man. Truth I think not so much of; for I do not know it. And
I could wish in my heart that I had not published this paper, if it
troubles folk too much: all have not the same digestion, nor the same
sight of things. And it came over me with special pain that perhaps this
article (which I was at the pains to send to her) might give dismalness
to my _Gamekeeper at Home_. Well, I cannot take back what I have said;
but yet I may add this. If my view be everything but the nonsense that
it may be--to me it seems self-evident and blinding truth--surely of all
things it makes this world holier. There is nothing in it but the moral
side--but the great battle and the breathing times with their
refreshments. I see no more and no less. And if you look again, it is
not ugly, and it is filled with promise.

Pray excuse a desponding author for this apology. My wife is away off to
the uttermost parts of the States, all by herself. I shall be off, I
hope, in a week; but where? Ah! that I know not. I keep wonderful, and
my wife a little better, and the lad flourishing. We now perform duets
on two D tin whistles; it is no joke to make the bass; I think I must
really send you one, which I wish you would correct.... I may be said to
live for these instrumental labours now, but I have always some
childishness on hand.--I am, dear Gamekeeper, your indulgent but
intemperate Squire,

ROBERT LOUIS STEVENSON.

TO SIDNEY COLVIN

Having spent the last fortnight of April at New York, Stevenson and
his stepson moved at the beginning of May to the small New Jersey
watering-place from whence the following few letters are dated: his
wife having meanwhile gone to San Francisco, where she presently made
arrangements for the Pacific yachting trip.

_Union House, Manasquan, New Jersey [May 1888]._

MY DEAR COLVIN,--We are here at a delightful country inn, like a country
French place, the only people in the house, a cat-boat at our disposal,
the sea always audible on the outer beach, the lagoon as smooth as