the days of my life-第28部分

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od　or　bad；　or　they　will　not　be　read　and　therefore　not　bought。　I　hope；　however；　that　the　taste　will　be　good　when　your　book　es　out；　because；　if　it　is；　I　have　no　doubt　of　its　success　。　。　。　。
Always　affectionately　yours；
T。　Shepstone。
Towards　the　end　of　this　letter　Sir　Theophilus　says　he　is　sailing　in　a　few　days　for　South　Africa。　I　do　not　think　that　he　ever　saw　the　shores　of　England　again。　It　is　needless　to　add　that　Sir　William　Sergeaunt　was　right　in　his　estimate　of　the　value　of　Sir　Robert　Herbert’s　speech。　No　further　permanent　employment　was　ever　offered　to　him。　Indeed；　it　was　after　this　date　that　the　persecution　of　him　began；　of　which　I　have　already　written。
In　1883　Osborn　wrote　me　a　letter　concerning　some　imantophyllum12　plants　that　he　had　collected　for　me　in　Zululand；　which　at　this　moment；　twenty…eight　years　afterwards；　are　blooming　in　the　greenhouse；　in　the　course　of　which　letter　he　makes　some　rather　interesting　remarks。
12　One　of　these　plants　was　still　blooming　in　Sir　Rider’s　bedroom　in　1925。　—　Ed。
Zulu　Reserve；　via　Stanger；　Natal：
August　2；　1883。
。　。　。　The　place　I　am　living　at　now　is　about　a　hundred　miles　south　of　Inhlazaty　and　is　one　of　the　loveliest　spots　in　South　Africa。　I　have　a　very　fine　forest　within　half　a　mile　of　my　house；　and　a　sea　view　a　good　sixty　miles　along　the　coast。　My　position　here　as　supreme　chief　representing　the　paramount　Power　is　certainly　an　improvement　on　the　last。
You　will　have　learnt　ere　this　of　Cetewayo’s　fate。　It　could　not　have　been　otherwise：　he　was　bound　to　e　to　grief；　as　from　the　day　he　set　foot　in　Zululand　—　since　his　restoration　he　has　never　ceased　in　doing　that　which　he　ought　not　to　have　done。　He　proved　himself　to　be　as　bad　a　character　as　ever　wore　a　head…ring。　It　is　to　be　hoped　that　he　will　do　better　in　the　happy　hunting…grounds　whither　he　betook　himself　on　Saturday；　21　July；　through　the　persuasive　influence　of　several　gleaming　blades　and　sundry　rifle　bullets。　As　to　myself　I　am　getting　thoroughly　sick　and　tired　of　this　dark　country　full　of　dark　deeds　of　evil　and　violence。　。　。　。　I　suppose　that　by　this　time　you　will　have　developed　into　a　full　blown　barrister；　and　I　need　not　tell　you　that　from　my　heart　I　wish　you　every　success。　You　ought　to　try　for　an　appointment　as　Attorney…General　in　a　colony　（Crown）；　as　you　have　the　pull　of　private　practice　in　addition　to　your　official　employment　in　such　an　office。
It　is　evident　that　when　Sir　Melmoth　Osborn　wrote　thus　of　the　death　of　Cetewayo　as　having　taken　place　on　July　21；　1883；　he　was　deceived　by　some　false　rumour　which　had　reached　the　Reserve　from　Zululand　proper。　Cetewayo　did　not　really　die　until　February　8；　1884；　and　Osborn　saw　his　corpse　before　it　was　quite　cold。　An　account　of　the　circumstances　of　his　death；　which　Sir　Melmoth　told　me　afterwards　he　believed　to　have　been　caused　by　poison；　will　be　found　on　pp。　28　and　29　of　the　Introduction　to　the　1888　and　subsequent　editions　of　my　book　“Cetewayo　and　his　White　Neighbours。”
I　think　that　we　left　Ditchingham；　which　at　the　time　I　thought　I　had　let　for　some　years　to　a　gentleman　who　unhappily　died　before　he　took　possession；　at　the　beginning　of　1885；　about　ten　years　after　I　began　life　in　South　Africa。　Now　with　a　wife　and　three　children　I　was　practically　beginning　life　again　in　a　small　furnished　house　in　West　Kensington　at　the　age　of　twenty…eight　or　thereabouts。
I　remember；　as　one　does　remember　trifles；　that　we　drove　in　a　railway　bus　from　Liverpool　Street　to　the　West　Kensington　house；　which　personally　I　had　not　seen。　We　passed　down　the　Embankment；　and　my　little　son；　whom　I　was　destined　to　lose；　kneeled　upon　the　seat　of　the　bus　and　stared　at　the　Thames；　asking　many　questions。
After　my　arrival　in　London　I　began　to　attend　the　Probate　and　Divorce　Court。　Soon　I　found；　however；　that　if　I　was　to　obtain　a　footing　in　that　rather　close　borough；　I　must　do　so　through　a　regular　gate；　and　I　entered　into　an　arrangement　with　Bargrave　（now　Sir　Henry　Bargrave）　Deane　to　work　in　his　chambers。　He　was　a　connection　of　mine；　my　cousin　Major　George　Haggard　having　married　his　sister。　She　died　young。　At　that　time　her　father；　the　well…known　lawyer　old　Sir　James　Deane；　was　still　alive；　and　I　remember　acting　as　his　junior　in　some　Divorce　Court　case。　Bargrave　Deane　is　now　one　of　the　judges　of　the　Probate　and　Divorce　Division。
Chapter　10　“KING　SOLOMON’S　MINES”　AND　“SHE”
“King　Solomon’s　Mines”　—　Andrew　Lang　—　Estimate　of　Lang’s　character　—　Anecdotes　of　Lang　—　Cassells　and　“King　Solomon’s　Mines”　—　Instant　success　—　Letters　from　R。　L。　S。　—　Bazett　Haggard　and　R。　L。　S。　in　Samoa。　—　The　writing　of　“Jess”　and　“She”　—　What　I　shall　be　remembered　by　—　Fifteen　months’　work　—　“She”　dedicated　to　Lang　—　Published　by　Longmans　—　Letters　about　it　—　The　Sherd　of　Amenartas。
Whether　I　wrote　“King　Solomon’s　Mines”　before　or　after　I　entered　Bargrave　Deane’s　chambers　I　cannot　now　remember；　but　I　think　it　must　have　been　before。　At　any　rate　I　recollect　that　we　brought　up　from　Ditchingham　a　certain　pedestal　writing…desk；　which　had　always　been　in　the　house　and　has　returned　thither；　for　it　now　stands　in　my　wife’s　bedroom；　and　added　it　to　the　somewhat　exiguous　furniture　of　our　hired　abode。　It　stood　in　the　dining…room；　and　on　it　in　the　evenings　—　for　my　days　were　spent　in　the　Temple　—　I　wrote　“King　Solomon’s　Mines。”　I　think　the　task　occupied　me　about　six　weeks。　When　the　tale　was　finished　I　hawked　it　round　to　sundry　publishers；　Hurst　and　Blackett　among　them；　none　of　whom　if　I　remember　rightly；　thought　it　worth　bringing　out。
At　length；　I　know　not　how；　the　manuscript；　which　today　presents　a　somewhat　battered　appearance；　reached　the　late　W。　E。　Henley；　who　appears　to　have　brought　it　to　the　notice　of　Mr。　Andrew　Lang。　How　I　first　came　into　contact　with　my　friend　Andrew　Lang　—　that　is；　where　and　when　I　met　him　—　I　cannot　recall。　This；　however；　must　have　been　subsequent　to　the　following　note：
1　Marloes　Road：　March　28　＇1883＇。
My　dear　Sir；　—　Your　paper　“Bottles”　has　reached　me　as　London　editor　of　Harper’s。　I　am　much　pleased　by　it；　but　I　am　unable　to　accept　anything　except　by　permission　of　the　American　editor。　。　。　。　I　am　glad　to　take　this　opportunity　of　thanking　you　for　the　great　pleasure　“The　Witch’s　Head”　has　given　me。　I　have　not　read　anything　so　good　for　a　long　while。
Faithfully　yours；
A。　Lang。
What　the　paper　“Bottles”　may　have　been　I　am　not　now　quite　sure。　I　think；　however；　that　I　can　identify　it　with　a　short　tale　which　subsequently　appeared　in　a　magazine；　perhaps　the　Cornhill；　under　the　title　of　“The　Blue　Curtains。”　At　any　rate　I　have　forgotten　the　circumstances　of　the　story；　and　do　not　know　whether　a　copy　of　it　remains　in　my　possession。
When　Lang’s　next　letter　was　written　—　it　is　only　dated　“Sunday”　—　I　gather　from　its　tone　that　I　had　made　his　personal　acquaintance。　Its　subject　is　“King　Solomon’s　Mines；”　and　it　runs：
Dear　Mr。　Rider　Haggard；　—　I　have　got　so　far　as　Sir　Henry’s　duel　with　the　king。　Seldom　have　I　read　a　book　with　so　much　pleasure：　I　think　it　perfectly　delightful。　The　question　is；　what　is　the　best；　whereby　I　mean　the　coiniest；　way　to　publish　it？　As　soon　as　possible　I　will　find　out　what　Harper’s　Boy’s　Magazine　is　able　to　do。　I　believe　that　all　boys’　magazines　pay　hopelessly　badly。　There　is　so　much　invention　and　imaginative　power　and　knowledge　of　African　character　in　your　book　that　I　almost　prefer　it　to　“Treasure　Island。”
The　rest　of　the　letter　deals　with　possible　methods　of　bringing　out　the　work。
Lang’s　next　letter　on　the　subject　is　dated　October　3rd；　and　shows　that　by　now　we　were　on　more　or　less　intimate　terms。
Dear　Rider　Haggard；　—　Many　thanks　for　“K。S。M。”　How　grand　the　map　is。　。　。　。　Abstain　from　politics；　let　civilisation　die　decently　as　die　it　must；　and　as　we　have　no　fight　in　us。　I　don’t　belong　to　the　Voting　classes。　Ni　Elettori　ni　Eletti。
Yours　very　truly；
A。　Lang。
P。S。　—　My　people；　with　whom　I　have　been　in　Galloway；　prefer　“Dawn”　to　“The　Witch’s　Head。”　I　don’t。　“Dawn”　is　too　steep；　especially　Lady　Bellamy；　and　George；　and　Philip；　and　the　heroine。　The　writing　and　the　sentiment　pleased　me　very　much；　but　I　barred　the　Astral　Body。
Perhaps　before　I　go　any　further　I　should　try　to　give　some　estimate　of　Andrew　Lang；　whose　character　I　have　had　opportunities　of　observing　through　many　years。　Take　him　all　in　all　I　think　him　one　of　the　sweetest…natured　and　highest…minded　men　whom　it　has　ever　been　my　privilege　to　know；　although　a　certain　obtrusive　honesty　which　will　out；　and　an　indifferent　off…handedness　of　manner；　has　prevented　him　from　being　generally　popular。　Moreover；　he　has　always　been　supposed　to　be　somewhat　of　a　mocker　and　farceur；　as　is　exemplified　in　his　Press　nickname　of　“Merry　Andrew。”　Yet　the　truth　is　that　his　laughter　is　often　of　the　sort　that　is　summoned　to　the　lips　to　hide　tears　in　the　eyes。　This　may　be　seen　by　attentive　students　of　his　poems；　and；　in　truth；　few　are　more　easily　or　more　deeply　moved　by　anything　that　appeals　to　the　heart；　be　it　national；　or　personal。
Of　his　abilities　I　speak　with　some　diffidence。　On　all　hands　he　is　admitted　to　be　perhaps　the　soundest　and　ablest　critic　of　his　time；　but　when　it　es　to　his　place　as　an　historian；　or　as　a　student　and　recorder　of　matters　connected　with　myth；　ritual；　and　religion；　I　find　myself　inpetent　to　judge　of　his　real　status；　which　doubtless　the　future　will　decide；　though　personally　I　believe　it　will　be　a　very　high　one。　On　such　matters；　however；　only　experts　can　express　opinions　of　real　value。　Lang　never　claimed　to　be　a　creator；　and　whenever　he　sets　to　work　to　create；　which　he　has　not　done　of　late　years；　his　wide　knowledge　and　his　marvellous　memory　of　everything　he　has　read　—　and　little　worth　studying　in　ancient　or　modern　literature　has　escaped　him　—　prove　positive　stumbling…blocks　in　his　path。　I　noticed　this　particularly　when　we　were　evolving　“The　World’s　Desire。”　With　that　modesty　which　so　often　distinguishes　those　who　have　much　to　be　proud　of；　he　once　described　himself　to　me　as　“A　hodman　of　letters；”　a　description　that　may　be　paralleled　by　Mrs。　Lynn　Linton’s　rather　sharp　saying　—　to　myself　I　believe；　although　of　this　I　am　not　sure　—　that　“Andrew　Lang　would　be　the　greatest　writer　in　the　language　if　only　he　had　something　to　write　about。”　The　fact　is；　of　course；　that　he　has　always　had　too　much。　Like　the　amorous　Frenchman　he　has　ever　been　wont　to　eparpiller　son　coeur　upon　a　hundred　subjects。　I　should　add　that　Mrs。　Linton　was　one　of　his　great　admirers。　In　a　letter　which　she　wrote　to　me　in　1890；　and　which　is　before　me　at　this　moment；　she　says；　“I　simply　adore　his　work。”　Again；　further　on　in　the　same　epistle；　she　speaks　of　her　“delight　in　his　most　exquisite　work。”
The　truth　is　that　Lang　is　par　excellence　a　litterateur　of　the　highest　sort；　perhaps　the　most　literary　man　in　England　or　America。　When　he　is　not　reading　he　is　writing；　and　he　writes　more　easily　than　he　talks；　at　any　rate　to　most　people。　Also　some　of　his　poetry　is　wonderfully　beautiful。　If　verses　like　“The　White　Pacha；”　its　panion　“Midnight；　January　25th；　1886；”　and　“A　Dream”　are　doomed　to　die；　and　with　them　others　as　good；　I　wonder　what　will　live！　Again；　what　majestic　lines　are　these　upon　the　Odyssey：
So　gladly；　from　the　songs　of　modern　speech
Men　turn；　and　see　the　stars；　and　feel　the　free
Shrill　wind　beyond　the　close　of　heavy　flowers；
And　through　the　music　of　the　languid　hours；
They　hear　like　ocean　on　a　western　beach
The　surge　and　thunder　of　the　Odyssey。
Of　his　extraordinary　readiness　I　need　say　little；　as　it　is　known　to　all　men。　Still；　as　it　may　be　forgotten　when　this　book　is　published；　if　that　ever　happens；　I　will　give　two　instances。　Once　he　called　on　me；　we　were　going　for　a　walk　together；　but　I　was　not　ready　to　start。　So　he　asked　for　paper；　and　in　half　an　hour　or　so　finished　a　leading　article　—　I　think　it　was　for　the　Daily　News　—　which　he　sent　straight　to　the　office　by　a　cabman；　to　appear　without　the　submission　of　a　proof。　I　read　that　article　afterwards；　it　was　on　some　Shakespearian　subject　which　involved　many　allusions　and　much　quotation。　I　believe　that　it　contained　no　error。
On　another　occasion　I　was　travelling　with　them　from　St。　Andrews　to　Edinburgh；　and　Dr。　Boyd；　better　known　as　A。K。H。B。；　was　our　fellow…voyager。　He　was　a　great　conversationalist　and　talked　to　Lang　almost　without　ceasing。　Presently　Lang　took　off　the　tall　hat　he　was　wearing；　placed　it　on　his　knee；　produced　paper　and　pencil；　set　the　paper　on　the　crown　of　the　hat　and　began　to　write　like　a　spiritualist　automatist；　if　that　is　the　right　word；　all　the　time　keeping　up　a　flow　of　argument　and　conversation　with　A。K。H。B。　At　Edinburgh　I　saw　him　post　the　results；　without　rereading；　to　the　editor　of　the　Saturday　Review。　The　article　appeared　in　due　course　without　his　seeing　a　proof；　and　written　in　his　usual　clear　and　beautiful　style。
Such　is　the　professional　man；　but　of　the　friend　I　know　not　what　to　say；　save　that　I　reckon　it　as　one　of　the　privileges　of　my　life　to　be　able　to　call　him　by　that　much…misused　name；　the　tenderest；　the　purest　and　the　highest…minded　of　human　creatures；　one　from　whom　true　goodness　and　nobility　of　soul　radiate　in　every　mon　word　and　act；　though　often　half…hidden　in　a　jest；　the　most　perfect　of　gentlemen　—　such　is　Andrew　Lang。
To　return　to　the　history　of　“King　Solomon’s　Mines。”　Ultimately　that　book　found　its　way　to　Messrs。　Cassells；　remended　to　them；　I　believe；　by　Mr。　Henley。　Subsequently　Henley　reproached　me　with　having　taken　it　out　of　his　hands；　and　said　that　he　could　have　got　me　much　better　terms。　But　I　never　did　take　it　out　of　his　hands；　indeed　I　never　knew　that　it　was　in　his　hands。　If　my　memory　serves　me；　I　heard　direct　from　Messrs。　Cassells　informing　me　that　they　would　publish　the　book　and　asking　me　to　call　re　the　agreement。
At　any　rate　I　called　and　in　that　great　building　saw　a　business…like　editor　whose　name　I　never　knew。　He　pointed　out　that　the　pany　was　prepared　to　offer　me　an　alternative　agreement。　The　first　of　the　two　agreements　conveyed　the　copyright　to　Messrs。　Cassells　in　return　for　a　sum　of；　I　think；　100　pounds　paid　down。　The　second　offered　me　50　pounds　on　account　of　royalties；　to　be　calculated　“at　the　rate　of　ten　per　cent。　of　the　published　price　of　the　book　on　all　copies　sold　by　them　during　the　continuance　of　the　copyright；　reckoning　thirteen　copies　to　the　twelve。”
After　my　previous　experiences　as　an　author　100　pounds　on　the　nail　had　great　attractions。　I　had　no　particular　belief　in　the　story　which　I　had　thrown　off　in　my　leisure　hours　as　a　mere　jeu　d’esprit；　especially　after　its　rejection　in　other　quarters。　Even　Mr。　Lang’s　kind　expressions　of　opinion　carried　no　conviction　to　my　mind；　for　I　did　not　understand　all　that　it　meant　ing　from　such　a　source。　I　set　him　down　as　an　amiable　gentleman　with　a　taste　for　savages　and　boys’　books；　it　did　not　occur　to　me　that　he　saw　such　things　every　day；　and　that　when　he　wrote　to　one　who　was　practically　a　stranger　that　he　almost　preferred　this　particular　boys’　book　to　“Treasure　Island；”　the　pliment　was　high　and　indeed　extraordinary。　So　after　a　brief　moment　of　reflection　I　told　the　business…like　editor　that　I　would　sell　the　copyright　for　100　pounds；　and　he　departed　to　fetch　the　agreement。
As　it　chanced；　however；　there　sat　in　the　corner　of　the　room　a　quiet　clerk；　whom　I　had　never　even　noticed。　When　the　editor　had　departed　this　unobtrusive　gentleman　addressed　me。
“Mr。　Haggard；”　he　said　in　a　warning　voic