第39部分(第5/7 頁)

way　of　talking：　things　which　both　thrilled　me。　The　reflections　of　your　hero　before　the　battle　are　singularly　fine；　the　King’s　song　of　victory　a　very　noble　imitation。　But　how；　in　the　name　of　literature；　could　you　mistake　some　lines　from　Scott’s　“Marmion”　—　ay；　and　some　of　the　best　—　for　the　slack…sided；　clerical…cob　effusions　of　the　Rev。　Ingoldsby？　Barham　is　very　good；　but　Walter　Scott　is　vastly　better。　I　am；　dear　sir；

Your　obliged　reader；

Robert　Louis　Stevenson。

Of　course　I　answered　Stevenson’s　letter　—　by　the　way；　I　have　not　the　least　idea　who　sent　him　the　book　—　thanking　him　and　pointing　out　that　he　had　overlooked　the　fact　that　Allan　Quatermain’s　habit　of　attributing　sundry　quotations　to　the　Old　Testament　and　the　Ingoldsby　Legends；　the　only　books　with　which　he　was　familiar；　was　a　literary　joke。

Stevenson　wrote　back；　again　in　an　undated　letter　from　Bournemouth　and　on　a　piece　of　manuscript　paper：

Dear　Mr。　Haggard；　—　Well；　yes；　I　have　sinned　against　you；　that　was　the　part　of　a　bad　reader。　But　it　inclines　me　the　more　to　explain　my　dark　saying。　As　thus：

You　rise　in　the　course　of　your　book　to　pages　of　eloquence　and　poetry；　and　it　is　quite　true　that　you　must　rise　from　something　lower；　and　that　the　beginning　must　infallibly　（？）　be　pitched　low　and　kept　quiet。　But　you　began　（pardon　me　the　word）　slipshod。　If　you　are　to　rise；　you　must　prepare　the　mind　in　the　quiet　parts；　with　at　least　an　acplished　neatness。　To　this　you　could　easily　attain。　In　other　words；　what　you　have　still　to　learn　is　to　take　trouble　with　those　parts　which　do　not　excite　you。

Excuse　the　tone　of　a　damned　schoolmaster；　and　believe　me；

Yours　truly；

Robert　Louis　Stevenson。

The　next　letter；　also　from　Skerryvore；　Bournemouth；　which；　because　of　its　a