of our critics； like those of Alexandria in the first centuries of our era； think and preach that style is the really important thing； much more important than the substance of the story。 I cannot believe that they are right。 The substance is； as it were； the soul of the matter； the style is its outward and visible body。 I prefer a creation with a great soul； even if its form is somewhat marred； to one with a beautifully finished form and very little soul。 Of course when the two are found together； a rare event； there is perfection。 Also people differ in their ideas of what style really is。 By it some understand inverted sentences； unusual words and far…fetched metaphors or allusions； making up a whole that is difficult to prehend。 Others hold that the greater the simplicity of the language； the better the style。 I am not an authority； but my own view is that above all things the written word should be clear and absolutely readable； and that work which does not fulfil these conditions can scarcely be expected to endure。 It runs a grave risk of passing with the fashion of the hour。 To take a single instance； the Authorised version of the Old Testament； considered as literature； seems to me to fulfil all the requisites of good writing； in fact to be style in the truest sense。 Yet the meaning remains perfectly clear； and were those books to cease to be studied for their religious contents； they would still always be read as a model of plain and vigorous English。
But to return to Stevenson。 Here I will add the last letter save one that I received from him； though again I do not know to what it refers； since the enclosure of which he speaks is missing； or at any rate has not been found at present。 Like the others it is undated； but the allusion to “Nada the Lily” shows that it must have been written about twenty years ago； at the beginning of 1892。
Valima Plantation； Samoan Islands。
Rider Haggard； Esq。
Dear Haggard； — In cleaning up the hideous mess which accumulates about the man of letters I came on the enclosed sheet。 Its filthiness will indicate its age。 But there is internal evidence which to me dates it still further back； and that is the reference to your brother Bazett。 I now know him well and regard him with the most sincere and lively affection and respect。 Indeed we are panions in arms and have helped each other back and forth in some very difficult and some very annoying affairs。 This has given a wonderful jog to my sense of intimacy with yourself until I have a difficulty in remembering that I have never seen you。 Two remarks and I leave my filthy enclosure to speak for itself。 First； the equations on the fly…leaf were not in the least intended for you — they’re pieces of a lesson in the Samoan language — and you must kindly regard them as non…existent。 Second； “Nada the Lily” is A1。
Sincerely yours；
Robert Louis Stevenson。
I only wish I could find the “filthy enclosure；” or at least remember with what it had to do。
I have one more allusion to my brother besides the letter which came to me with “The Man Haggard。” It is written on a little triangular bit of foolscap pinned into the manuscript of “Nada the Lily。” I suppose that Lang must have sent it to me。
“If you see Haggard； tell him we have a great affection for his brother。 Our home rejoices when we see him ing； and that Chaka mourning for his mother is great。”
Here is this last letter pinned into the first of the two acpanying； parchment…bound volumes； that which is entitled “An Object of Pity； or； The Man Haggard。 A Romance。 By Many petent Hands。 Imprinted at Amsterdam。” These volumes were sent to me by Stevenson in July 1893。
Tivoli Hotel； Apia； Samoa；
South Paci。
Dear Rider Haggard； — I send you herewith a couple of small （and； so to speak； indecent） volumes in which your brother and I have been indulging in the juvenile sport of shying bricks at each other。 Honi soit qui mal y pense； say I。 And I hope you will say the same。 We are a large party； with nothing to do — Lady Jersey； my wife； Captain Leigh； your brother and I； and Mrs。 Strong； my daughter…inlaw — and that which we wrote was not according to wisdom。 I have heard some of yours called in question for steepness； here is your revenge。
Yours very truly；
Robert Louis Stevenson。
The panion volume is entitled “Objects of Pity； or； Self and pany。 By a Gentleman of Quality。 Imprinted at Amsterdam。” It is corrected throughout in my brother Bazett’s handwriting。 I should judge that it went to press without his having the advantage of seeing proofs。 Pinned to the title…page is the following letter to me from Bazett。
Apia； Samoa： July 17； 1893。
Dear Rider； — Enclosed letter from R。 L。 Stevn。 speaks for itself。 He says we all had nothing to do。 He is wrong there。 They wrote the “Object of Pity” on the days I was at work at n。 I did not write my letter till 3 ＇word illegible＇ after； when Stevenson insisted on having it printed and took it to Sydney and had it printed。 I was riled at being called “an object of Pity” rather； so set to and gave them a Roland for their Oliver。
We have had a very bad time here。 I have seen sights of “The French Revolution” — heads carried about in the streets with yells and shouts — wounded and dead carried along。 Also a beastly bloody axe which decapitated “young Mataafa” shoved under my nose to admire and adore。 I told my friend “Safolu” to take his beastly thing away and he seemed quite surprised 。 。 。 。 These books are R。 L。 S。‘s gift to you — write him a line 。 。 。 。
Your loving brother；
Bazett M。 Haggard。
Stevenson and I are great friends； he is such a good chap； but as I say of him in my book。
As regards the volumes themselves； which seem to fetch a great deal of money when they e on the market； I am only able to say that I have studied them with great zeal but am unable to make head or tail of them。 Perhaps this is because I do not possess the key to the joke or understand the local allusions。
I have only one more relic of Stevenson； a very amusing poem which he wrote to Lang and myself on “The World’s Desire；” or rather a copy of it； for I believe that Lang has lost the original。 Again I must express my sorrow that I never saw Stevenson。 Evidently he was a delightful man and as brilliant as he was charming； truly a master of his craft。 “Dr。 Jeckell and Mr。 Hyde” has always seemed to me one of the most remarkable things of its sort in the English language。 Longman gave me an early copy of it just after it was issued from the press； and this I still possess somewhere。 I shall never forget the thrill with which I read the story； in places the horror of it is enough to cause the hair to rise。 His essays； too； are almost unmatched； at any rate in our time； and next to these I should put “The Master of Ballantrae。” At least such is my individual taste。
About “King Solomon’s Mines” I have only this to add。 In it I made a mistake with reference to an eclipse； which brought me into much trouble with astronomers； and also with numbers of the reading public who hurried to expose my ignorance。 In a subsequent edition I rectified the mistake； but that produced more trouble； since students of the work had violent arguments between themselves； each quoting the versions that they had read； and wrote to me to settle their disputes。 I have always found the movements of the heavenly bodies very ticklish things to touch。 Whatever one says about the moon； for instance； is pretty sure to be wrong。
I may say this further； that no book that I have written seems to have conveyed a greater idea of reality。 At this moment I hold in my hand at least a dozen letters sorted from what I call “Unknown Correspondents；” by which I mean munications received from individuals with whom I have no personal acquaintance。 Every one of the writers of these epistles is anxious to know whether or not the work is a record of fact。 Even the great dealer in precious stones； Mr。 Streeter — I fear I must say the late Mr。 Streeter — approached me on the subject。 I believe he actually sent an expedition to look for King Solomon’s Mines； or at any rate talked of doing so。 Nor was he so far out in his reckoning； for since that day they have been discovered — more or less。 At any rate Rhodesia has been discovered； which is a land full of gems and gold； the same land； I believe； as that whence King Solomon did actually draw his wealth。 Also Queen Sheba’s Breasts have been found； or something very like to them； and traces of the great road that I describe。 Doubtless I heard faint rumours of these things during my sojourn in Africa； having made it my habit through life to keep my ears open； but at the best they were very faint。 The remainder I imagined； and imagination has often proved to be the precursor of the truth。 The mines of Kukuana land； alias Rhodesia； are destined to produce much more treasure than ever Solomon or the Phoenicians won out of them。 Who built the vast Zimbabwe and other temples or fortresses？ Some ridiculous scientist has alleged within the last few years that these were reared by the Portuguese at the time that those very Portuguese were talking of them as the work of the devil or of ancient magicians in an unknown age。 The thing is absurd。 Those edifices are the relics of a lost civilisation which worshipped the Nature gods。 Who they were； what they were； we do not and perhaps never shall know。 Andrew Lang has stated the whole problem much better than I can ever hope to do； in a poem he once wrote at my request for a paper in which I was interested。 I do not think that those verses have ever been republished； so I ：13
13 Republished in The Poetical Words of Andrew Lang； vol。 iii； p。 42 （1923）； under the title of “Zimbabwe。” — Ed。
Into the darkness whence they came；
They passed — their country knoweth none；
They and their gods without a name
Partake the same oblivion。
Their work they did； their work is done；
Whose gold； it may be； shone like fire；
About the brows of Solomon；
And in the House of God’s Desire。
The pestilence； the desert spear；
Smote them： they passed with none to tell
The names of them that laboured here：
Stark walls and crumbling crucible；
Straight gates； and graves； and ruined well；
Abide； dumb monuments of old。
We know； but that men fought and fell；
Like us — like us — for love of gold。
A girls’ school； or some members of it； evidently weary of the society of their own sex； wrote congratulating me with great earnestness because I had in “King Solomon’s Mines” produced a thrilling book “without a heroine。”
Truly in those days my industry was great。 While on my summer holiday in 1885 I ain；” the sequel to “King Solomon’s Mines；” from the first word to the last； although it did not appear until about a couple of years later； after it had run through Longman’s Magazine。 On what exact dates I began and finished the story I do not know； though possibly these are entered on the manuscript； of which I made a present to my friend Charles Longman。14
14 These dates are not entered on the MS。 — Ed。
On my return to town in the late autumn I began a novel of a very different style； which was afterwards published under the name of “Jess。” The manuscript of “Jess” does not state the date of its mencemen