ill to the exclusion of others. It is strange that
such mean defects should be so hard to eradicate, after a century of
separation, and so great an admixture of other blood.

Your stay in Mexico must have been interesting indeed: and it is natural
you should be so keen against the Church on this side, we have a painful
exhibition of the other side: the _libre-penseur_ a mere priest without
the sacraments, the narrowest tyranny of intolerance popular, and in
fact a repetition in the XIXth century of theological ill-feeling minus
the sermons. We have speeches instead. I met the other day one of the
new lay schoolmasters of France; a pleasant cultivated man, and for some
time listened to his ravings. "In short," I said, "you are like Louis
Quatorze, you wish to drive out of France all who do not agree with
you." I thought he would protest; not he!--"Oui, Monsieur," was his
answer. And that is the cause of liberty and free thought! But the race
of man was born tyrannical; doubtless Adam beat Eve, and when all the
rest are dead the last man will be found beating the last dog. In the
land of Padre d. R. you see the old tyranny still active on its
crutches; in this land, I begin to see the new, a fat fellow, out of
leading-strings and already killing flies.

This letter drones along unprofitably enough. Let me put a period to my
divagations. Write again soon, and let me hear good news of you, and I
will try to be more quick of answer.

And with the best wishes to yourself and all your family, believe me,
your sincere friend,

ROBERT LOUIS STEVENSON.

TO ALISON CUNNINGHAM

The persons mentioned below in the third paragraph are cousins of the
writer and playmates of his childhood; two of them, christened Lewis
like himself after their Balfour grandfather, had been nicknamed
after their birthplaces "Delhi" and "Cramond" to avoid confusion.
Mount Chessie is a beautiful place near Lasswade: "Cummy" has
described his delight when she cut whistles for him there out of a
plane-tree.

[_Hyeres or Royat, Summer_ 1883.]

MY DEAR CUMMY,--Yes, I own I am a real bad correspondent, and am as bad
as can be in most directions.

I have been adding some more poems to your book. I wish they would look
sharp about it; but, you see, they are trying to find a good artist to
make the illustrations, without which no child would give a kick for it.
It will be quite a fine work, I hope. The dedication is