dear benefactors, doing so much good to many, to the Lord, suddenly
to be deprived of their most valued comforts? I was thrown into great
perplexity, could do nothing but murmur, why these things were done
to such a family. I could not rest, but at midnight, whether spoken
[or not] it was presented to my mind--'Those whom ye deplore are
walking with me in white.' I conclude from this the Lord saying to
sweet Mrs. Stevenson: 'I gave them to be brought up for me: well
done, good and faithful! they are fully prepared, and now I must
present them to my father and your father, to my God and your God.'"

It would be hard to lay on flattery with a more sure and daring hand. I
quote it as a model of a letter of condolence; be sure it would console.
Very different, perhaps quite as welcome, is this from a lighthouse
inspector to my grandfather:

"In reading your letter the trickling tear ran down my cheeks in
silent sorrow for your departed dear ones, my sweet little friends.
Well do I remember, and you will call to mind, their little innocent
and interesting stories. Often have they come round me and taken me
by the hand, but alas! I am no more destined to behold them."

The child who is taken becomes canonised, and the looks of the homeliest
babe seem in the retrospect "heavenly the three last days of his life."
But it appears that James and Mary had indeed been children more than
usually engaging; a record was preserved a long while in the family of
their remarks and "little innocent and interesting stories," and the
blow and the blank were the more sensible.

Early the next month Robert Stevenson must proceed upon his voyage of
inspection, part by land, part by sea. He left his wife plunged in low
spirits; the thought of his loss, and still more of her concern, was
continually present in his mind, and he draws in his letters home an
interesting picture of his family relations:--

"_Windygates Inn, Monday (Postmark July 16th)._

"MY DEAREST JEANNIE,--While the people of the inn are getting me a
little bit of something to eat, I sit down to tell you that I had a
most excellent passage across the water, and got to Wemyss at
mid-day. I hope the children will be very good, and that Robert will
take a course with you to learn his Latin lessons daily; he may,
however, read English in company. Let them have strawberries on
Saturdays."

"_Westhaven, 17