MY DEAR MOTHER,—I have seen Hamerton; he was very kind, all his family seemed pleased to see an _Inland Voyage_, and the book seemed to be quite a household word with them. P. G. himself promised to help me in my bargains with publishers, which, said he, and I doubt not very truthfully, he could manage to much greater advantage than I. He is also to read an _Inland Voyage_ over again, and send me his cuts and cuffs in private, after having liberally administered his kisses _coram publico_. I liked him very much. Of all the pleasant parts of my profession, I think the spirit of other men of letters makes the pleasantest. Do you know, your sunset was very good? The ‘attack’ (to speak learnedly) was so plucky and odd. I have thought of it repeatedly since. I have just made a delightful dinner by myself in the Café Félix, where I am an old established beggar, and am just smoking a cigar over my coffee. I came last night from Autun, and I am muddled about my plans. The world is such a dance!—Ever your affectionate son, ROBERT LOUIS STEVENSON. TO W. E. HENLEY [_Trinity College_, _Cambridge_, _Autumn_ 1878.] MY DEAR HENLEY,—Here I am living like a fighting-cock, and have not spoken to a real person for about sixty hours. Those who wait on me are not real. The man I know to be a myth, because I have seen him acting so often in the Palais Royal. He plays the Duke in _Tricoche et Cacolet_; I knew his nose at once. The part he plays here is very dull for him, but conscientious. As for the bedmaker, she’s a dream, a kind of cheerful, innocent nightmare; I never saw so poor an imitation of humanity. I cannot work—_cannot_. Even the _Guitar_ is still undone; I can only write ditch-water. ’Tis ghastly; but I am quite cheerful, and that is more important. Do you think you could prepare the printers for a possible breakdown this week? I shall try all I know on Monday; but if I can get nothing better than I got this morning, I prefer to drop a week. Telegraph to me if you think it necessary. I shall not leave till Wednesday at soonest. Shall write again. R. L. S. TO EDMUND GOSSE [17 _Heriot Row_, _Edinburgh_, _April_ 16, 1879]. _Pool of Siloam_, _by El Dorado_, _Delectable Mountains_, _Arcadia_