Letter: TO A. G. DEW-SMITH

[HOTEL BELVEDERE, DAVOS, NOVEMBER 1880.]

Figure me to yourself, I pray - A man of my peculiar cut - Apart from dancing and deray, Into an Alpine valley shut;

Shut in a kind of d.a.m.ned Hotel, Discountenanced by G.o.d and man; The food? - Sir, you would do as well To cram your belly full of bran.

The company? Alas, the day That I should dwell with such a crew, With devil anything to say, Nor any one to say it to!

The place? Although they call it Platz, I will be bold and state my view; It's not a place at all - and that's The bottom verity, my Dew.

There are, as I will not deny, Innumerable inns; a road; Several Alps indifferent high; The snow's inviolable abode;

Eleven English parsons, all Entirely inoffensive; four True human beings - what I call Human - the deuce a cipher more;

A climate of surprising worth; Innumerable dogs that bark; Some air, some weather, and some earth; A native race - G.o.d save the mark! -

A race that works, yet cannot work, Yodels, but cannot yodel right, Such as, unhelp'd, with rusty dirk, I vow that I could wholly smite.

A river that from morn to night Down all the valley plays the fool; Not once she pauses in her flight, Nor knows the comfort of a pool;

But still keeps up, by straight or bend, The selfsame pace she hath begun - Still hurry, hurry, to the end - Good G.o.d, is that the way to run?

If I a river were, I hope That I should better realise The opportunities and scope Of that romantic enterprise.

I should not ape the merely strange, But aim besides at the divine; And continuity and change I still should labour to combine.

Here should I gallop down the race, Here charge the sterling like a bull; There, as a man might wipe his face, Lie, pleased and panting, in a pool.

But what, my Dew, in idle mood, What prate I, minding not my debt?

What do I talk of bad or good?

The best is still a cigarette.

Me whether evil fate a.s.sault, Or smiling providences crown - Whether on high the eternal vault Be blue, or crash with thunder down -

I judge the best, whate'er befall, Is still to sit on one's behind, And, having duly moistened all, Smoke with an unperturbed mind.

R. L. S.

Letter: TO THOMAS STEVENSON

[HOTEL BELVEDERE], DAVOS, DECEMBER 12 [1880].

MY DEAR FATHER, - Here is the scheme as well as I can foresee. I begin the book immediately after the '15, as then began the attempt to suppress the Highlands.

I. THIRTY YEARS' INTERVAL

(1) Rob Roy.

(2) The Independent Companies: the Watches.

(3) Story of Lady Grange.

(4) The Military Roads, and Disarmament: Wade and (5) Burt.

II. THE HEROIC AGE

(1) Duncan Forbes of Culloden.

(2) Flora Macdonald.

(3) The Forfeited Estates; including Hereditary Jurisdictions; and the admirable conduct of the tenants.

III. LITERATURE HERE INTERVENES

(1) The Ossianic Controversy.

(2) Boswell and Johnson.

(3) Mrs. Grant of Laggan.

IV. ECONOMY

(1) Highland Economics.

(2) The Reinstatement of the Proprietors.

(3) The Evictions.

(4) Emigration.

(5) Present State.

V. RELIGION

(1) The Catholics, Episcopals, and Kirk, and Soc. Prop. Christ.

Knowledge.

(2) The Men.

(3) The Disruption.

All this, of course, will greatly change in form, scope, and order; this is just a bird's-eye glance. Thank you for BURT, which came, and for your Union notes. I have read one-half (about 900 pages) of Wodrow's CORRESPONDENCE, with some improvement, but great fatigue. The doctor thinks well of my recovery, which puts me in good hope for the future. I should certainly be able to make a fine history of this.

My Essays are going through the press, and should be out in January or February. - Ever affectionate son,

R. L. S.

Letter: TO EDMUND GOSSE