like King Henry V.'s, which the sun will not condescend to burn,
sometimes he smites savagely. He makes of the countenances of his foes a
fry and of their bodies a comprehensive granulation. But if you find
favour in his eyes--in those discriminating, ruthless, sight-absorbing
glances which none may reciprocate--accept your privileges with a thrill
of chastened pride that you may bask in his presence and be worthy his
livery and of gladsome mind. The harpings of the sweet singer of Israel
could not have been more effectual in the dispersal of depression than
the steadfast beams of the sun supreme in tropic sky.

Let the sun scorch the skin and blister it until it peels, and scorches
and peels again, and scorches and peels alternately until, having no more
dominion over the flesh, it tinctures the very blood and transmutes mere
ruddiness to bronze. Thereafter you know not for ever the pallor of the
street for have you not the gold of the sun in your blood and his iron
in your bones?

Of the graciousness of the sun a special instance has been preserved in
my erratic diary. Here it is: November 24, 1908: Spent from 10 a.m. to
1.15 p.m. on the beach and on the Isle of Purtaboi, bare-limbed,
bare-bodied, save for scant cotton pants. Above high-water mark the sand
was scorchingly hot to the feet. The heat of the glowing coral drift on
the Isle forced me promptly to amend my methodic gait to a quick step,
though my hardened soles soon became indifferent. Nutmeg pigeons were
nesting plentifully on trees and shrubs amongst masses of orchids, and on
ledges almost obscured by grass. Brown-winged terns occupied cool nooks
and crannies in the rocks, and other species of terns had egg
reserves--they cannot be called nests--on the unshaded coral bank. After
gazing intently on the white drift, eagerly making mental notes of any
remarkable mutations in the colouring of the thickly strewn eggs, and