_Life_ of Mr Stevenson, which Mr Colvin is preparing, appears,
he will have much of interest to tell of that turning-point in the young
man's life. He was of service also in introducing his friend to editors,
and Mr Stevenson's first serious appearance in literature was an essay
on _Roads_ sent by Mr Colvin to Mr Hamerton, the editor of _The
Portfolio_, in 1873. It appeared shortly, and was followed by more work
there and elsewhere; _Cornhill_, _Longmans_, and _Macmillan_ having all
before long printed papers by the new writer. In Macmillan the paper
_Ordered South_ appeared in April 1874, and had a pathetic interest as
it was an account of the first of its author's many pilgrimages in
search of health, which, after he grew to manhood, were to make up so
much of his life's experience.

In _Fraser's_, _Scribner's_, _The New Amphion_, _The Magazine of Art_,
his early work also found acceptance, and he occasionally contributed to
_The Contemporary Review_ and _The English Illustrated_, a list of
well-known magazines in the home country which makes the more remarkable
the refusal of the American papers to use his contributions largely,
during his stay in San Francisco and Monterey.

Of that charming dreamy sketch of those days, _Will o' the Mill_, which
appeared in _Cornhill_, Mr Hamerton wrote in the highest terms of
praise. Most of these early essays, sketches, and tales have been
republished, and in the beautiful _Edinburgh Edition_ of his works,
presently being seen through the press by Mr Colvin and Mr Baxter, and
all but completed, his many admirers will be able to read all that came
from his busy and graceful pen.

In 1878 Mr Stevenson's first book, _An Inland Voyage_, was published by
Messrs Chatto & Windus. It is a bright, fresh account of a trip in
canoes, 'The Arethusa' and 'The Cigarette,' made by Mr Stevenson and his
friend the late Sir Walter G. Simpson up the Oise and the Sambre. The
travellers had unique opportunities of observing people and scenery, and
of these the writer made the most, consequently the book is full of
pretty pictures of scenery and quaint touches of human life which make
it charming reading.

'There is nothing,' he says, 'so quiet and so much alive as a woodland.
And surely of all smells in the world the smell of many trees is
sweetest and most satisfying.'

These are the reflections of a man to whom the teeming silence of the
woods was very dear, and who, in _Prince Otto_, afterward