[Updated with full text of letter, below.]

RL Stevenson scratched it in ink on paper in 1888 in a letter, presumably not for publication.

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IN MEMORY OF ROBERT LOUIS STEVENSON, 1850-1894, son and student of Edinburgh.

"and when I remembered all that I hoped and feared as I pickled about Rutherford's in the rain and the east wind; how I feared I should make a mere shipwreck, and yet timidly hoped not; how I feared I should never have a friend far less a wife, and yet passionately hoped I might; how I hoped (if I did not take to drink) I should possibly write one little book. And then now -- what a change! I feel somehow as if I should like the incident set upon a brass plate at the corner of that dreary thoroughfare, for all students to read, poor devils, when their hearts are down."

from the South Seas, September 1888
Presented on behalf of all Stevenson lovers ........ September 1995

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John Finnemore took a picture of the bronze in 2010 and wrote about it: "It made me both smile and admire everyone involved - the person who wrote it, and the people who did what they did when they read it."

That understates it nicely. It's a wonderful thing all 'round.

Here is the letter in full:

To Charles Baxter
7 a.m. 6 September 1888
with a dreadful pen
Yacht Casco, at sea, near the Paumotos

Mv dear Charles, Last night as I lay under my blanket in the cockpit, courting sleep, I had a comic seizure. There was nothing visible but the southern stars, and the steersman there out by the binnacle lamp; we were all looking forward to a most deplorable landfall on the morrow, praying God we should fetch a tuft of palms which are to indicate the Dangerous Archipelago; the night was as warm as milk; and all of a sudden. I had a vision of — Drummond Street. It came on me like a flash of lightning; I simply returned thither, and into the past. And when I remembered all that I hoped and feared as I pickled about Rutherford's* in the rain and the east wind; how I feared I should make a mere shipwreck, and yet timidly hoped not; how I feared I should never have a friend far less a wife, and yet passionately hoped I might; how I hoped (if I did not take to drink) I should possibly write one little book etc., etc. And then, now — what a change! I feel somehow as if I should like the incident set upon a brass plate at the corner of that dreary thoroughfare, for all students to read, poor devils, when their hearts are down. And I felt I must write one word to you. Excuse me if I write little: when I am at sea, it gives me a headache; when I am in port, I have my diary crying, 'Give, give." I shall have a fine book of travels, I feel sure; and will tell you more of the South Seas after very few months than any other writer, has done — except Herman Melville perhaps, who is a howling cheese. Good luck to you, God bless you. Your affectionate friend R.L.S.

Love to Henley and Simpson and Bob. if you see him.

The editor says that the reference to Herman Melville as a "howling cheese" is a compliment. How things change.

* "Rutherford's" refers to the pub in Drummond Street known as "The Pump," frequented by Edinburgh students.