to Horatio F. Brown

Davos, 1881.

MY DEAR BROWN.—Here it is, with the mark of a San Francisco bouquiniste.  And if ever in all my ‘human conduct’ I have done a better thing to any fellow-creature than handing on to you this sweet, dignified, and wholesome book, I know I shall hear of it on the last day.  To write a book like this were impossible; at least one can hand it on—with a wrench—one to another.  My wife cries out and my own heart misgives me, but still here it is.  I could scarcely better prove myself—Yours affectionately,

R. L. Stevenson.