Lamb House, Rye, Sussex. - Recently shared in 'poor dear Jonathan [Sturges]'s good wishes' to Trevelyan but now he assures him and his wife of his 'still tenderer interest and sympathy' [after the death of their new-born daughter Susan]. Spent that day with their 'poor undaunted little friend [Sturges]' in surroundings which were a 'blest... escape from that dreary prison house of Wimpole Street [a nursing home]'. Sturges's 'inseparable (&... most valuable) nurse is with him', and he has 'charming rooms' with a big balcony overlooking the sea at Eastbourne; seems 'really to be getting on...' despite the lack of society. Will go again soon, but cannot do so often as the journey takes so long; whenever he does see Sturges, the sense is always the same of 'the hard little consistency of his personality - unique little pathetic wasted demon that he is!'. Thinks with great pleasure of their few days at Welcombe at Whitsuntide, and their talks with John [Cann?] Bailey; must meet again. Wonders if the Trevelyans are discussing the 'Luard tragedy'; they do 'nothing else' in Rye; it is a 'rounded "Greek" perfection of horror or darkness'. Acknowledges that the Trevelyans have enough cares of their own.
29 Beaufort Street, Chelsea SW. - Asks Trevelyan to bring Sturgess [Jonathan Sturges?] on Friday night, which is the first night they have free. Helen is overworked. Fry has nearly finished the poster. The show in Cambridge [of contemporary art, at the Bijou Theatre] is attracting attention.
The Shiffolds. - Her 'delightful present' came this morning with her letter: the letters [of Robert Louis Stevenson?] are 'indeed a charming book in every way, both inside and out', and he has 'long wished to have a good edition', since he has only read them 'in a desultory way'. Of course 'this edition with the new letters must be far the best': he and Bessie are looking forward to reading it this summer, and Robert is 'very grateful... for so delightful a present'.
Is glad she has had a good time abroad; supposes the weather has 'changed for the worse now', and it is still 'very unsettled' here. Julian has taken to the new nurse 'without much difficulty'. He can now walk very well, and his cold seems almost to have gone.
Robert has been to two funerals recently: on Saturday he went to Haslemere for the funeral of 'old Mr [Henry Graham] Dakyns', who 'died suddenly', and on Monday to Eastbourne for Jonathan Sturges' funeral. Will 'miss Sturges a good deal' though cannot regret his death, since 'he had a very lonely life, and was usually more or less ill'. His death will be sad for Henry James, 'who was perhaps more intimate with him than with anyone else'. Mr Dakyns will also be 'much missed' by Robert and Bessie, and many of their friends.
Saw Charles briefly in London yesterday, who 'seemed very well, and cheerful'. His mother must go to the Grafton Gallery exhibition ['A Century of Art, 1810-1910'] when she returns: the 'Preraphaelites are especially well represented'.
Tovey now seems to be getting on well with 'Ariadne' [The Bride of Dionysus]; they hope he will be able to come to the Shiffolds near the end of July and stay for August. Röntgen has been setting several of Robert's poems for a chorus of women's voices; he has not sent them yet, but. 'they are sure to be interesting, as everything he does is'. Robert hopes to assemble a book of short poems and translations this autumn; thinks he has enough, especially if he includes the first act of his and Bessie's translation of Vondel's Lucifer.
Is very glad his parents have had 'such a restful time at Mürren'; lucky that the H[enry] Y[ates] T[hompson]s happened to be there as well. Sends love to his father.
Long's Hotel, New Bond Street, London, W. - Bob's fiancée's name [des Amorie van der Hoeven] is a 'mouthful but... a delicious one'; likes 'those old French Dutch names in all their romantic associations', and tells Bob not to 'swallow it completely but just add to it [his] own charming patronymic'. Has always liked Dutch women, and has known two 'beautiful in body & soul in a very special way'; one married an Englishman and died five years ago in Java, the other he loved 'as a boy at Heidelberg' but has heard nothing of for many years; they 'stand in [his] memory as beautiful shades', so Bob has 'nothing to "overcome"' in him, and he also has 'faith' in him. Looks forward to meeting Bob's fiancée and trying to 'make her "see" [him] -"J.S." - a poor thing but his own'. All the more pleased at the news as Bob has been for some months 'blown upon by many rumours' about his 'dark purposes' from friends whom he will not name; is glad their 'tips' did not come off and that he was right to keep 'putting [his] money' on Bob's connections in Holland. Also distrusts the same friends' reports of 'McTaggart & his Daisy Bird' that on arriving in England, McTaggart sent his wife to stay with his aunt at Guildford and went himself to Cambridge, where he 'plunged into a prolonged debauch of philosophical conversation' and showed no sign of wanting to 'resume his conjugal duties'. Alys Russell was so sorry for Daisy that she went to see her and told her that 'if she had the slightest spirit she would return to her profession as a nurse'; Mrs Whitehead then invited her to stay with them at Grantchester, where 'McT was induced occasionally to come out and dine', though he said it was too far to come to sleep; it seems he is also reluctant to take a house but wants to keep his college rooms. Even if this is not true it is 'very comic': as is Constance Fletcher's new play, which he went to see recently with Henry James. 'Mrs Pat [rick Campbell]' played the heroine 'admirably'; they were in the front row and 'H.J. fairly blushed at the languorous glances she cast upon him!'; the play is very funny, but since it has 'no art in the great sense, cracks of course in its solution, which is only arrived at by turning it into farce'.
Has not read St[ephen Phillips's play ["Paolo and Francesca"], and is unlikely to, being put off by the 'too unanimous' praise and having read the extracts. But the 'B[ritish] P[ublic] must have a poet, and since W[illiam] Watson's correct attitudes in the Dreyfus case... could not make them forget his wickedness in the Armenian business', S. Philips seems likely to fill the bill'; he is also prolific. The [Second Boer] war sickens him: though if England got into a 'really tight place' he would turn about and become 'violently pro-British', he cannot help looking at the Boers as 'antique heroes'. Hears that Frank Costelloe is dying of cancer and has left a 'perfectly hateful will'; knows the details but has promised to keep them secret. Sees John Waldegrave a great deal, and becomes fond of him; was sorry to miss [Desmond] MacCarthy when he came to see him. Waldegrave wants him to visit his father's after the New Year, but he thinks that if he is able to leave Town his best Christmas proposal is from the Thorolds at Torquay.
His own 'poor old father' has written imploring him to spend the winter with him at St. Augustine in Florida; there is a 'Turgeneffian melancholy in the thought' that he cannot really explain to his father why it would 'kill' him. Bob has chosen the 'only true solutions... of our vital problems' and he is sure that in the 'limited & human sense of the word' Bob will be happy as it is unlikely he himself 'ever shall be'. The '"man of feeling", the man with an ear for life, can only find the rhythm of it in Love or in the Church; for Art, which busies itself (in spite of Logan [Pearsall Smith]) with life so directly' cannot take its 'acolyte far enough away from joy & sorry to make him self-sufficing'. Apologises for growing 'platitudinal'. John Waldegrave tells him his 'preference for memoirs to works of fiction is as certain a sign of old bachelordom as [his] cry of "Cras amet"!'
Draft [?] letter from Trevelyan, Roundhurst, Hazelmere, to 'My dear Censor' [Thomas Sturge Moore], with 'a few timid verses'; Trevelyan does not think highly of them. Has written 'a great deal of the longer poem', though is now 'a little stuck'. Is coming to London on Tuesday, and staying with [Edward] Marsh until Saturday; asks if he could stay with Moore in Highgate, as his other evenings are taken up with concerts. Has just received a notice for the "Dial" [Shannon and Ricketts' 'occasional magazine'], which looks good; is 'especially glad to see "Centaur" in it. Asks why there is only one woodcut [by Moore] in it. A version of "Archilochus, serving as a hireling..." [published in "Mallow and Asphodel"] follows, with many corrections in both pen and pencil; a note from Trevelyan at the end says that he does not like the 'end part, apart from its not being particular [sic] original'.
Two bifolia with draft version of "The Sadness of Neobule, when the Spring returning does not bring Archilochus with it" [published in "Mallow and Asphodel"]. Two sheets of paper with draft verses, beginning "Her bright authentic image", and "But a sudden wind..." [three lines only]. Three sheets of paper with drafts of the first part of "For a Fan" ["Mallow and Asphodel"]. Two sheets of paper with draft poems, first beginning "Ah! will Joy come back again..." and "Therefore to bright Aphrodite..."
Book contains various drafts of verse, and a small section of prose [f 12]. Trevelyan uses the book from each end. Six loose sheets from this book folded together, with poem, "Come little fishes, gather round my hook" [between ff 40-41]. Draft (incomplete) of "Epimetheus" [published in "Mallow and Asphodel"], 35r-28r.
Handed in at Marine Parade, Eastbourne. - Has just read "Sisyphus" without stopping; would have done so before but has been ill; sends 'affectionate congratulations'.