nfession of incapacity. During my wife's wretched illness--or I
should say the worst of it, for she is not yet rightly well--I
somewhat lost my head, and entirely lost a great quire of corrected
proofs. This is one of the results: I hope there are none more
serious. I was never so sick of any volume as I was of that; I was
continually receiving fresh proofs with fresh infinitesimal
difficulties. I was ill; I did really fear, for my wife was worse
than ill. Well, 'tis out now; and though I have already observed
several carelessnesses myself, and now here is another of your
finding--of which indeed, I ought to be ashamed--it will only justify
the sweeping humility of the preface.

"Symonds was actually dining with us when your letter came, and I
communicated your remarks, which pleased him. He is a far better and
more interesting thing than his books.

"The elephant was my wife's, so she is proportionately elate you
should have picked it out for praise from a collection, let us add, so
replete with the highest qualities of art.

"My wicked carcass, as John Knox calls it, holds together wonderfully.
In addition to many other things, and a volume of travel, I find I
have written since December ninety Cornhill pp. of Magazine
work--essays and stories--40,000 words; and I am none the worse--I am
better. I begin to hope I may, if not outlive this wolverine upon my
shoulders, at least carry him bravely like Symonds or Alexander Pope.
I begin to take a pride in that hope.

"I shall be much interested to see your criticisms: you might perhaps
send them on to me. I believe you know that I am not dangerous--one
folly I have not--I am not touchy under criticism.

"Sam and my wife both beg to be remembered, and Sam also sends as a
present a work of his own.--Yours very sincerely,

ROBERT LOUIS STEVENSON."

As indicating the estimate of many of the good Edinburgh people of
Stevenson and the Stevensons that still held sway up to so late a date as
1893, I will here extract two characteristic passages from the letters of
the friend and correspondent of these days just referred to, and to whom
I had sent a copy of the _Atalanta_ Magazine, with an article of mine on
Stevenson.

"If you can excuse the garrulity of age, I can tell you one or two
things about Louis Stevenson, his father and even his grandfather,
which you may work