the days of my life

第45部分 (第5/7頁)

　look　at　that　table　through　the　window　and　think　of　many　things；　and　especially　of　the　genial　talk　of　Walter　Besant；　whose　funeral　I　attended　now　so　long　ago。　Surely　he　was　one　of　the　best　and　kindest…hearted　gentlemen　that　ever　wrote　a　book。　Long　may　his　memory　remain　green　in　the　annals　of　literature　for　which　he　did　so　much。

I　think　that　about　this　time　I　must　have　bee　rather　sickened　of　the　novel…writing　trade　and　despondent　as　regards　my　own　powers。　This　I　conclude　from　an　undated　and　unaddressed　note　which　I　find　among　Lang’s　letters　of　the　period。　It　runs：

Dear　Haggard；　—　If　you　jack　up　Literature；　I　shall　jack　up　Reading。　Of　course　I　know　the　stuff　is　the　thing；　but　the　ideal　thing　would　be　the　perfection　of　stuff　and　the　perfection　of　style；　and　we　don’t　often　get　that；　except　from　Henry　Fielding。　Yes；　I　believe　in　“Jess”；　but　you　can’t　expect　me　to　be　in　love　with　all　your　women；　the　heart　devoted　to　Ayesha　has　no　room　for　more。　Probably　I　think　more　highly　of　your　books　than　you　do；　and　I　was　infinitely　more　anxious　for　your　success　than　for　my　own；　which　is　not　an　excitement　to　me。　But　Lord　love　you；　it　would　be　log…rollery　to　say　that　in　a　review。

Yours　ever；

A。　L。

I　have　not　the　faintest　idea　of　the　genesis　of　this　note。　I　presume；　however；　that　Lang　had　aimed　some　of　his　barbed　shafts　at　me；　probably　in　conversation；　and　that　I　had　written　to　him　petulantly。　Anyhow　his　answer　is　most　kind　and　nice。

The　next　letter　in　the　bunch；　dated　May　9th　（year　missing）；　says：

I　am　much　grieved　by　the　death　of　Umslopogaas。　I　have　written　his　epitaph　in　Greek　and　in　English　verses。　＇N。B。　—　These　fine　verses　now　appear　upon　the　title…page　of　“Allan　Quatermain。”　I　remember　Mrs。　Lang　telling　me　that　“Andrew　had　wasted　an　ent