The Works of Robert Louis Stevenson - Swanston Edition, Vol. 03Stevenson, Robert Louis
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The Works of Robert Louis Stevenson - Swanston Edition, Vol. 03
Stevenson, Robert Louis
English literature -- 19th century; Horror tales; Literature -- History and criticism
Alas! this was not the only ill circumstance in his future. He had been
idle for some eighteen months, superintending his new edition, hanging
on to settle with the publisher, travelling in the Highlands with Willie
Nichol, or philandering with Mrs. M'Lehose; and in this period the
radical part of the man had suffered irremediable hurt. He had lost his
habits of industry, and formed the habit of pleasure. Apologetical
biographers assure us of the contrary; but from the first he saw and
recognised the danger for himself; his mind, he writes, is "enervated to
an alarming degree," by idleness and dissipation; and again, "my mind
has been vitiated with idleness." It never fairly recovered. To business
he could bring the required diligence and attention without difficulty;
but he was thenceforward incapable, except in rare instances, of that
superior effort of concentration which is required for serious literary
work. He may be said, indeed, to have worked no more, and only amused
himself with letters. The man who had written a volume of masterpieces
in six months, during the remainder of his life rarely found courage for
any more sustained effort than a song. And the nature of the songs is
itself characteristic of these idle later years; for they are often as
polished and elaborate as his earlier works were frank, and headlong,
and colloquial; and this sort of verbal elaboration in short flights is,
for a man of literary turn, simply the most agreeable of pastimes. The
change in manner coincides exactly with the Edinburgh visit. In 1786 he
had written the "Address to a Louse," which may be taken as an extreme
instance of the first manner; and already, in 1787, we come upon the
rosebud pieces to Miss Cruikshank, which are extreme examples of the
second. The change was, therefore, the direct and very natural
consequence of his great change in life; but it is not the less typical
of his loss of moral courage that he should have given up all larger
ventures, nor the less melancholy that a man who first attacked
literature with a hand that seemed capable of moving mountains, should
have spent his later years in whittling cherry-stones.
Meanwhile, the farm did not prosper; he had to join to it the salary of
an exciseman; at last he had to give it up, and rely altogether on the
latter resource. He was an active officer; and, though he sometimes
tempered severity with mercy, we have local testimony, oddly
representing the public feeling of the period, that, while "in
everything else he was a perfect gentleman, when he met with anything
seizable he was no better than any other gauger."
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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