On Monday, a Reuter's telegram from Auckland announced the death
of Mr. Robert Louis Stevenson, the well-known novelist. He died on Monday evening, December 3rd, Two hours before the end Mr. Stevenson said to his wife, "I have a strange pain in my head." He almost immediately fell back insensible, and never recovered consciousness. The cause of death was sudden, paralysis of the brain, accompanied by collapse of the lungs. The funeral of Mr. Stevenson took place on the following day, his body being buried on the sum- mit of Pala Mountain, 1,300 ft. above the sea-level,--the place which he had always pointed out for his grave. Some doubts have been thrown on the accuracy of the report, but we fear there is little hope that it will not be confirmed. We have dealt
elsewhere with Mr. Stevenson's contribution to literature, and will only say here that, in spite of the extraordinary charm and vividness of his romances, and of his power of humour, his work as an essayist far more nearly approaches the ideal standard than his achievement in the field of fiction. "The Journey with a Donkey in the Cevennes" is, in its way', a perfect book. This cannot be said of any of his novels, though many of the characters are extraordinarily striking; and in' Treasure-Island," "Prince Otto," and "The Wrecker," Mr. Stevenson showed that he could be equally at home in the story of adventure, the romance of sentiment, and the modern novel.
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