Mr. Henry James, speaking of the quarrel between Alan Breck and David Balfour in Kidnapped, declares that he knows of " few better examples of the way genius has ever a surprise in its pocket — keeps an ace, as it were, up its sleeve." And in Weir of Hermiston we have a surprise of an even higher order from Stevenson's pocket; that pocket which during his lifetime seemed like the proverbial small boy's—almost inexhaustible, stuffed full of a delightfully heterogeneous mass, sometimes of jingling trinkets, and sometimes of the oddest and rarest treasures. It may seem rash to declare a half-finished and half-revised book the greatest achievement of an author who had so high a passion for finality as Stevenson, but many will unhesitatingly declare Weir of Hermiston Stevenson's best book.

Robert Louis Stevenson (1850–1894) was a Scottish novelist, poet, travel writer, and essayist. He was a celebrity during his life-time for works like “Strange Case of Dr. Jekyll and Mr. Hyde” and “Treasure Island.” Now he is one of the most translated authors in the world. Praised by many as a potential masterpiece, “The Weir of Hermiston” tells the story of young Archie Weir from a rich Edinburgh family. Having abandoned all attempts to get along with his father, Archie is banished from his family and sent to live as the local landlord on family property in the Borders hamlet Hermiston. There Archie meets and falls in love with a young local girl named Kirstie.

"[...]"Ay," says he, "she looks menseful. She minds me-"; and then, after a pause (which some have been daring enough to set down to sentimental recollections), "Is she releegious?" he asked, and was shortly after, at his own request, presented. The acquaintance, which it seems profane to call a courtship, was pursued with Mr. Weir's accustomed industry, and was long a legend, or rather a source of legends, in the Parliament House. He was described coming, rosy with much port, into the drawing-room, walking direct up to the lady, and assailing her with pleasantries, to which the embarrassed fair one responded, in what seemed a kind of agony, "Eh, Mr. Weir!" or "O, Mr. Weir!" or "Keep me, Mr. Weir!" On the very eve of their engagement, it was related that one had drawn near to the tender couple, and had overheard the lady cry out, with the tones of one who talked for the sake of talking, "Keep me, Mr. Weir, and what became of him?" and the profound accents of the suitor reply, "Haangit, mem, haangit." The motives upon either side were much debated. Mr. Weir must have supposed his bride to be somehow suitable; perhaps he belonged to that class of men who think a weak head the ornament of women-an opinion invariably punished in this life. Her[...]".

In Stevenson's tale of father - son confrontation, the father, Adam Weir, is modelled on Lord Braxfield, the eighteenth-century 'hanging judge'. Weir, a 'risen man' who has married a wealthy but weak woman, is both feared and respected, not least by his own son, Archie. At a public hanging, Archie speaks out against capital punishment, knowing that it was his own father who sentenced the man.