Samoa, one of whom especially, Mr
Clark, was so valued a friend of the whole Vailima household. The Roman
Catholic priests, many of whom are doing devoted work in the islands,
were also welcome visitors at Vailima.

Never bound by creeds or forms, Mr Stevenson had a thoroughly practical
religion, calculated to do infinitely more good in the world than all
the theological disputes and hair splittings that ever were penned in
ponderous volumes or thundered solemnly from orthodox pulpits.

Of his political work in Samoa, his earnestness for the good government
of its people, his anxiety that they should have a just control and a
due freedom, it is unnecessary to speak fully here, as his letters in
the home press at the time and the volume _Footnotes to History_ brought
the knowledge of his views and actions within reach of all. Nothing
could have been more unselfish than the attitude of the writer, to whom
politics were abhorrent, who, nevertheless, from sheer humanity entered,
at some personal risk, into the petty struggle with excellent results
for the Samoans. And certainly nothing more courageous can be imagined
than the man, whose tender heart winced at the sight of suffering and
bloodshed, going down into the hospitals during the brief war, and
himself helping to tend and comfort the wounded and the dying. In his
interest in native affairs he had, as in all else that made up life for
him, the thorough sympathy of his wife, and also of the other members of
his most united household.

It was a very happy party in spite of some misfortunes and anxieties,
occasional visits of the influenza, and the dread of ruin from rain or
hurricane; and after their first difficulties as to house-building were
over, it was to a very spacious and pleasant house that they welcomed
the elder Mrs Stevenson when she returned to Samoa in 1893. The scrub
still, however, required much clearing, and we find in _The Vailima
Letters_ Mr Stevenson dividing his day into so many hours of literary
work and so many hours of weeding!

The day began early, and Mr Stevenson, after the first breakfast, did
his literary work, until the sound of a conch summoned the family to a
lunch, or second breakfast, about eleven o'clock. After this there was
rest and music till four, and then outdoor work or play, lawn-tennis
being a very favourite pastime, and in the evening they had more music,
and a game at cards. It was a simple, natural life, and one that mad