RICHARD FREDERICK LITTLEDALE.
[TO THE EDITOR OF THE "SPECTATOR."]
Sin,—Your correspondent " Zephyros " (Spectator, Decem- ber 9th) will find the poem he quotes, in print, at p. 12 of "Kottabos," Vol. I. (McGee, Dublin, 1874). He will also find, at p. 145 of the same volume, another jeu d'esprit of Dr. Littledale's probably unrivalled among squibs for sustained wit. I refer to the "Oxford Solar Myth—a Contribution to Comparative Mythology." I strongly recommend "Zepbyros" to read it, but perhaps he has done so already, though his letter does not mention it. The poem quoted by " Zephyros" differs in some details from the "Kottabos" version, and I have reason to suspect that the latter was composed in col- laboration with Charles Pelham Mulvany, another brilliant contemporary of Littledale's, and a frequent contributor to "Kottabos." The version quoted by " Zephyros " seems to me to be an earlier draught of the finished work. I may mention that there was a great deal of collaboration among the men of Littledale's set, in the early and middle "fifties." Although I cannot myself claim to have been one of the "set," I have often walked with Littledale and Mulvany and others in the College Park, or under the Library corridor (now included in the Library itself), and listened to recitations of the squibs ecclesiastic, which ultimately appeared in "Kot- tabon" as "Lyra Evangelica." (see "Kottabos," New Series Vols. I. and II.; Mc Gee, D ublin, 1891-95). " Zephyros" will find a concise but comprehensive Life of Littledale in the "Dic- tionary of Nat. Biography," Vol. XXX III., p. 364. Doubtless he would find in the same work a notice of Neale, but this I have not verified. As to "adventures" in Littledale's life, I think he never had any,—none, at least, that I should describe by that name. For quite half his life he was a chronic invalid, and it is strange that, suffering as he did from spinal disease, the only form of exercise he could endure (not to say enjoy) was riding a tricycle. I have been told that his death was caused by falling into his bath in a fainting fit, and thus being smothered. He lived quite alone in chambers at No. 9 Red Lion Square, so no help was at hand.—I am, Sir, &c., EDWARD STANLEY ROBERTSON, MA.
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