As for the more serious subject of the letter, I must refer curious readers to an essay of mine on Lockhart, originally published in 1884 and reprinted in Essays in English Literature some years later. To this reprint I subjoined, before I got this letter from R. L. S., a reasoned defence of Lockhart from the charge of cowardice and "caddishness": but it is evident that Stevenson had not yet seen it. When he did see it, he wrote me another letter chiefly about my book itself, and so of no interest to the public, but touching again on this Lockhart question. He avowed himself still dissatisfied: but said he was sorry for his original remark which was "ungracious and unhandsome" if not untrue, adding, "for to whom do I owe more pleasure than to Lockhart?"

54.

My dear Saintsbury,

Thanks for yours. Why did I call Lockhart a cad? That calls for an answer, and I give it. "Scorpion"[131] literature seems at the best no very fit employment for a man of genius, which Lockhart was—and none at all for a gentleman. But if a man goes in for such a trade, he must be ready for the consequences; and I do not conceive a gentleman as a coward; the white feather is not his crest, it almost excludes—and I put the "almost" with reluctance. Well, now about the duel? Even Bel-Ami[132] turned up on the terrain. But Lockhart? Et responsum est ab omnibus, Non est inventus.[133] I have often wondered how Scott took that episode.[134] I do not know how this view will strike you;[135] it seems to me the "good old honest" fashion of our fathers, though I own it does not agree with the New Morality. "Cad" may be perhaps an expression too vivacious and not well chosen; it is, at least upon my view, substantially just.

Now if you mean to comb my wig, comb it from the right parting—I know you will comb it well.

An infinitely small jest occurs to me in connection with the historic umbrella: and perhaps its infinite smallness attracts me. Would you mind handing it to Rudyard Kipling with the enclosed note?[136] It seems to me fitly to consecrate and commemorate this most absurd episode.

Yours very sincerely,

Robert Louis Stevenson.

[Enclosure]

This Umbrella
purchased in the year 1878 by
Robert Louis Stevenson
(and faithfully stabled for more than twelve years in the
halls of George Saintsbury)
is now handed on at the suggestion of the first and
by the loyal hands of the second,
to
Rudyard Kipling.