American-British author Henry James and Scottish author Robert Louis Stevenson were literary and personal friends. Their literary friendship began in 1884, when Stevenson responded to James' essay The Art of Fiction with an essay of his own, titled A Humble Remonstrance (both essays were published in Longman's Magazine). The laudatory letter that James, then 41, subsequently wrote to the seven-year-younger Stevenson marked the start of a decade-long correspondence between them. A year after their initial epistolary contact, the two men met in person in Bournemouth —Stevenson was staying in the English coastal resort town for health reasons, and James often visited his sister there— and they eventually became friends. Their friendship lasted until Stevenson's untimely death in 1894, at the age of 44. (Stevenson had suffered from chronic respiratory illness throughout his life, often leaving him bedridden; he died from what is believed to have been a brain haemorrhage.)
Below is the letter James wrote to Stevenson in response to Stevenson's article in Longman's Magazine. At the time of writing, both authors had already published some of their best-known work —including The Portrait of a Lady (James, 1881) and Treasure Island (Stevenson, 1883)— while other famous works were still to come (e.g. Strange Case of Dr Jekyll and Mr Hyde (Stevenson, 1886) and The Turn of the Screw (James, 1898)).
3 Bolton St., W.
Dec. 5th [1884].My dear Robert Louis Stevenson,
I read only last night your paper in the December Longman's in genial rejoinder to my article in the same periodical on Besant's lecture, and the result of that charming half-hour is a friendly desire to send you three words. Not words of discussion, dissent, retort or remonstrance, but of hearty sympathy, charged with the assurance of my enjoyment of everything you write. It's a luxury, in this immoral age, to encounter some one who does write—who is really acquainted with that lovely art. It wouldn't be fair to contend with you here; besides, we agree, I think, much more than we disagree, and though there are points as to which a more irrepressible spirit than mine would like to try a fall, that is not what I want to say—but on the contrary, to thank you for so much that is suggestive and felicitous in your remarks—justly felt and brilliantly said. They are full of these things, and the current of your admirable style floats pearls and diamonds. Excellent are your closing words, and no one can assent more than I to your proposition that all art is a simplification. It is a pleasure to see that truth so neatly uttered. My pages, in Longman, were simply a plea for liberty: they were only half of what I had to say, and some day I shall try and express the remainder. Then I shall tickle you a little affectionately as I pass. You will say that my "liberty" is an obese divinity, requiring extra measures; but after one more go I shall hold my tongue. The native gaiety of all that you write is delightful to me, and when I reflect that it proceeds from a man whom life has laid much of the time on his back (as I understand it), I find you a genius indeed. There must be pleasure in it for you too. I ask Colvin about you whenever I see him, and I shall have to send him this to forward to you. I am with innumerable good wishes yours very faithfully,
HENRY JAMES.
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