d I forgive him: it is harder to forgive Burlingame for having
induced me to begin the publication, or myself for suffering the
induction.--Yes, I think Hole has done finely; it will be one of the
most adequately illustrated books of our generation; he gets the note,
he tells the story--_my_ story: I know only one failure--the Master
standing on the beach.--You must have a letter for me at Sydney--till
further notice. Remember me to Mrs. Will. H., the godlike sculptor, and
any of the faithful. If you want to cease to be a republican, see my
little Kaiulani, as she goes through--but she is gone already. You will
die a red: I wear the colours of that little royal maiden, _Nous allons
chanter a la ronde, si vous voulez!_ only she is not blonde by several
chalks, though she is but a half-blood, and the wrong half Edinburgh
Scots like mysel'. But, O Low, I love the Polynesian: this civilisation
of ours is a dingy, ungentlemanly business; it drops out too much of
man, and too much of that the very beauty of the poor beast: who has his
beauties in spite of Zola and Co. As usual, here is a whole letter with
no news: I am a bloodless, inhuman dog; and no doubt Zola is a better
correspondent.--Long live your fine old English admiral--yours, I
mean--the U.S.A. one at Samoa; I wept tears and loved myself and mankind
when I read of him: he is not too much civilised. And there was Gordon,
too; and there are others, beyond question. But if you could live, the
only white folk, in a Polynesian village; and drink that warm, light
_vin du pays_ of human affection and enjoy that simple dignity of all
about you--I will not gush, for I am now in my fortieth year, which
seems highly unjust, but there it is, Mr. Low, and the Lord enlighten
your affectionate

R. L. S.

[MRS. R. L. STEVENSON TO SIDNEY COLVIN

This letter shows the writer in her character of wise and anxious
critic of her husband's work. The result, in the judgment of most of
his friends, went far to justify her misgivings.

_Honolulu, May 21st, 1889._

BEST OF FRIENDS,--It was a joy inexpressible to get a word from you at
last. Fortunately for our peace of mind, we were almost positive that
your letters had been sent to the places we had already left. Still it
was a bitter disappointment to get nothing from you when we arrived
here. I wish you could have seen us both throwing over the immense
package of letters searching for your handwriting. Now