boast! I have had no fever; and though I've been very unhappy, it is
nigh over, I think. Of course, _St. Ives_ has paid the penalty. I must
not let you be disappointed in _St. I._ It is a mere tissue of
adventures; the central figure not very well or very sharply drawn; no
philosophy, no destiny, to it; some of the happenings very good in
themselves, I believe, but none of them _bildende_, none of them
constructive, except in so far perhaps as they make up a kind of sham
picture of the time, all in italics and all out of drawing. Here and
there, I think, it is well written; and here and there it's not. Some of
the episodic characters are amusing, I do believe; others not, I
suppose. However, they are the best of the thing such as it is. If it
has a merit to it, I should say it was a sort of deliberation and swing
to the style, which seems to me to suit the mail-coaches and
post-chaises with which it sounds all through. 'Tis my most prosaic
book.

I called on the two German ships now in port, and we are quite friendly
with them, and intensely friendly of course with our own _Curacoas_. But
it is other guess work on the beach. Some one has employed, or
subsidised, one of the local editors to attack me once a week. He is
pretty scurrilous and pretty false. The first effect of the perusal of
the weekly Beast is to make me angry; the second is a kind of deep,
golden content and glory, when I seem to say to people: "See! this is my
position--I am a plain man dwelling in the bush in a house, and behold
they have to get up this kind of truck against me--and I have so much
influence that they are obliged to write a weekly article to say I have
none."

By this time you must have seen Lysaght and forgiven me the letter that
came not at all. He was really so nice a fellow--he had so much to tell
me of Meredith--and the time was so short--that I gave up the
intervening days between mails entirely to entertain him.

We go on pretty nicely. Fanny, Belle, and I have had two months alone,
and it has been very pleasant. But by to-morrow or next day noon, we
shall see the whole clan assembled again about Vailima table, which will
be pleasant too; seven persons in all, and the Babel of voices will be
heard again in the big hall so long empty and silent. Good-bye. Love to
all. Time to close.--Yours ever,

R. L. S.

TO HENRY JAMES

_Vailima, July 7th, 1894._

DEAR HENRY JAMES,--I am going to try and dictate to you