edrock necessary. My father is in a gloomy state and has the yellow
flag at the peak, or the fore, or wherever it should be; and he has just
emptied some melancholy vials on me; I am also, by way of change,
spitting blood. This somewhat clouds the termination of my note.--Yours
ever affectionately,

ROBERT LOUIS STEVENSON.

TO THOMAS STEVENSON

About this time Mr. Stevenson was in some hesitation as to letting
himself be proposed for the office of President of the Royal Society
of Edinburgh.

_Bonallie Towers, Bournemouth, November 1884._

MY DEAR FATHER,--I have no hesitation in recommending you to let your
name go up; please yourself about an address; though I think, if we
could meet, we could arrange something suitable. What you propose would
be well enough in a way, but so modest as to suggest a whine. From that
point of view it would be better to change a little; but this, whether
we meet or not, we must discuss. Tait, Chrystal, the Royal Society, and
I, all think you amply deserve this honour and far more; it is not the
True Blue to call this serious compliment a "trial"; you should be glad
of this recognition. As for resigning, that is easy enough if found
necessary; but to refuse would be husky and unsatisfactory. _Sic subs._

R. L. S.

My cold is still very heavy; but I carry it well. Fanny is very very
much out of sorts, principally through perpetual misery with me. I fear
I have been a little in the dumps, which, _as you know, sir_, is a very
great sin. I must try to be more cheerful; but my cough is so severe
that I have sometimes most exhausting nights and very peevish wakenings.
However, this shall be remedied, and last night I was distinctly better
than the night before. There is, my dear Mr. Stevenson (so I moralise
blandly as we sit together on the devil's garden-wall), no more
abominable sin than this gloom, this plaguy peevishness; why (say I)
what matters it if we be a little uncomfortable--that is no reason for
mangling our unhappy wives. And then I turn and _girn_ on the
unfortunate Cassandra.--Your fellow culprit,

R. L. S.

TO THOMAS STEVENSON

Mr. Stevenson, the elder, had read the play of _Admiral Guinea_,
written in September by his son and Mr. Henley in collaboration, and
had protested, with his usual vehemence of feeling and expression,
against the stage confrontation of profane blackguardry in the person
of Pew with