s it was proposed to receive subscriptions, and to erect
a Stevenson memorial in some form to be afterwards decided on. The
suggestion was largely responded to, but it is probable the response
would have been even more cordial had it been determined that the
memorial should take a practical rather than an ornamental form.
Monuments are cold things whereby to perpetuate love and admiration; an
'arbour of Corinthian columns,' which one paper recently suggested,
would have appealed to Mr Stevenson himself only as an atrocity in
stone. His sole sympathy with stone was when it served the noble purpose
to which his father had put it, and, as lighthouse or harbour,
contributed to the service of man. If the memorial might have been too
costly in the form of a small shore-light, a lifeboat seemed a thing
that would have been dear to his own heart. And as, in years to come,
men read of rescues by the _Robert Louis Stevenson_, on some
wreck-strewn, rock-bound corner of our coasts, the memory of the man
who loved the sea, and of the race who toiled to save life in its
storms, would have been handed down to future generations in a fitting
fashion.

The memorial is to take the form of a mural monument with a medallion
portrait of his head in high relief. It is to be placed in the Moray
Aisle of St Giles' Cathedral, Edinburgh, which it is thought might be a
suitable 'Poets' Corner' for Scotland. If there is sufficient money, and
if the necessary permission is obtained, a stone seat may also be
erected on the Calton Hill at the point from which Mr Stevenson so
greatly admired the view. The medallion is to be entrusted to Mr A.
Saint Gaudens, an American sculptor of repute, who studied in France,
and who had the great advantage of personally knowing Mr Stevenson in
America in 1887 and 1888, and at that time getting him to sit for a
medallion, which is considered by his widow and family to be the best
likeness of him that they have seen. It is satisfactory that at last
someone has been found who can do justice to the quaint, mobile face,
and give to the memorial some of the living charm of the man. It is also
pleasant to know that Mrs Stevenson and her family have expressed
themselves perfectly satisfied with the choice of a sculptor.

The San Francisco monument is in the form of a sixteenth century ship,
of thirty guns, careening to the west, with golden sails full spread,
and with a figure of Pallas, looking towards the setting sun, i