多多读书

手机浏览器扫描二维码访问

第37部分（第1页）

her　novel。

As　regards　“Dawn”　itself；　it　was　more　or　less　of　a　failure　—　of　course　I　mean　at　that　time；　for　in　after　years　it　became　extraordinarily　successful。

One　of　the　most　appreciative　and　indeed　enthusiastic　readers　of　this　tale　at　the　time　was　old　Mr。　Trubner；　whose　advice　had　encouraged　me　to　make　the　attempt　of　its　writing。　Indeed　I　was　told　by　one　of　his　relatives　that　he　continued　its　perusal　to　within　a　few　hours　of　his　actual　death。　Whether　he　finished　it　or　not　I　cannot　now　remember。　Scoffers　might　say　that　it　finished　him。

The　new　novel　upon　which　I　embarked　ultimately　appeared　under　the　title　of　“The　Witch’s　Head。”　Failing　to　find　any　magazine　that　would　undertake　it　serially；　in　the　end　I　published　it　with　Messrs。　Hurst　and　Blackett　on　practically　the　same　terms　as　they　had　offered　me　for　“Dawn。”　Although；　except　for　the　African　part；　it　is　not　in　my　opinion　so　good　a　story　as　“Dawn；”　it　was　extremely　well　received　and　within　certain　limits　very　successful。　Indeed；　some　of　the　reviews　were　quite　enthusiastic；　although；　as　I　may　here　remark；　I　was　unacquainted　with　a　single　person　who　made　a　business　of　reviewing　fiction；　or　indeed　with　anyone　connected　with　the　Press。　Never　did　a　writer　begin　less　equipped　with　friends　who　were　likely　to　be　able　to　do　him　a　good　turn。　All　I　could　do　was　to　cast　my　fictional　bread　upon　the　literary　waters。

The　notices　of　“The　Witch’s　Head”　naturally　delighted　me；　indeed；　after　the　lapse　of　more　than　a　quarter　of　a　century　they　still　make　pleasant　reading。　Also　they　caused　the　book　to　go　quickly　out　of　print　and　to　be　pirated　in　America。　But　this　success　would　not　tempt　my　publishers　to　reissue　it　in　a　cheaper　form；　a　venture　that　they　thought　too　risky。　I　hawked　the　work　about　and　eventually　found　some　other　publishers　—　who　have　long　since　ceased　to　publish　—　who　agreed　to　bring　it　and　“Dawn”　out　each　in　a　two…shilling　edition；　and　nobly　promised　me　one…third　of　the　profits。　But　in　that　generous　agreement　was　a　little　clause　that　afterwards　nearly　proved　my　ruin。　It　bound　me　to　allow　this　firm　to　republish　any　other　novel　I　might　write　during　the　five　following　years；　in　the　same　form　and　on　the　same　terms。　To　such　a　document　as　this　in　my　ignorance　—　there　was　no　Authors’　Society　in　those　days　—　did　I　set　my　hand；　with　results　that　shall　be　told　later。　These；　however；　did　not　alarm　me　at　the　time；　if　I　really　considered　them；　as；　having　then　passed　my　final　examination　for　the　Bar　without　any　assistance　in　the　way　of　coaching；　I　determined　to　abandon　the　writing　of　fiction　and　devote　myself　entirely　to　my　profession。

Three　works　had　I　produced；　namely；　one　history　and　two　long　novels。　The　history　had　cost　me　50　pounds　to　publish；　and　for　the　two　novels　I　had　received　exactly　the　same　sum　in　all；　in　short；　the　　returns　were　at　that　time　nothing；　and　this　for　books　that　have　since　sold　by　the　ten　thousand　copies；　not　to　mention　pirated　editions。　Thus　I　find　that；　during　six　months　of　the　present　year；　4204　copies　of　“Dawn”　and　5656　copies　of　“The　Witch’s　Head”　were　sold　in　a　cheap　edition；　besides　others　at　a　higher　price；　which；　as　these　works　were　written　about　twenty…eight　years　ago；　is　not　a　total　to　be　despised。

To　return：　had　it　not　been　for　a　curious　chance　my　literary　efforts　would　have　ended　with　the　publication　of　“The　Witch’s　Head；”　and　probably　by　now　my　labours　at　the　Bar　in　this　or　some　other　land　would　almost　have　obliterated　them　from　my　memory。　But；　as　it　happened；　I　read　in　one　of　the　weekly　papers　a　notice　of　Stevenson’s　“Treasure　Island”　so　laudatory　that　I　procured　and　studied　that　work；　and　was　impelled　by　its　perusal　to　try　to　write　a　book　for　boys。

Outside　of　this　matter　of　my　attempts　at　fiction　I　have　little　to　add　as　to　our　life　at　Ditchingham　before　we　migrated　to　London　when　I　began　to　practise　at　the　Bar。　We　lived　very　quietly；　for　we　were　not　well　off；　and　an　estate　which　used　to　produce　sufficient　to　support　a　country　place　of　the　smaller　sort　and　those　who　dwelt　on　it；　began　to　show　greatly　lessened　returns。　The　bad　years　were　upon　us；　and　rents　fell　rapidly；　moreover　the　repairs　required　were　legion。　Also；　from　one　cause；　and　another；　little　or　nothing　came　out　of　the　African　property；　which　shared　in　the　depression　that　followed　on　the　giving　back　of　the　Transvaal。

Under　these　circumstances；　outside　members　of　my　own　family　our　visitors　were　few；　and　in　the　main　we　had　to　rely　on　ourselves　and　our　little　children　for　pany。　I　should　add　that　in　1884　another　daughter　was　born　to　us；　who　is　now　Mrs。　Cheyne。　She　was　named　Dorothy；　after　the　heroine　of　“The　Witch’s　Head；”　or　in　full；　Sybil　Dorothy　Rider。　My　recollection　of　this　period　is　that　it　was　rather　lonely；　at　any　rate　for　me；　since　my　friends　were　African；　and　Africa　was　far　away。　However；　I　worked　very　hard；　as　indeed　I　have　done　without　intermission　since　I　was　a　rather　idle　boy　at　school；　both　at　writing　and　the　study　of　the　Law。　Between　the　intervals　of　work　I　took　walks　with　a　dear　old　bulldog　I　had；　named　Caesar；　who　appears　in　“Dawn；”　and　a　tall　Kaffir　stick　made　of　the　black　and　white　umzimbeet　wood；　which　I　still　have；　that　reminded　me　of　Africa。　At　times；　too；　I　got　a　day’s　shooting　on　our　own　land　or　elsewhere。

However；　I　had　so　many　resources　in　my　own　mind；　and　so　much　more　to　do　than　I　could　possibly　pass；　that　all　these　matters　troubled　me　not　at　all。　I　was　determined　to　make　a　success　in　the　world　in　one　way　or　another；　and　that　of　a　sort　which　would　cause　my　name　to　be　remembered　for　long　after　I　had　departed　therefrom；　and　my　difficulty　was　to　discover　in　which　way　this　could　best　be　done　—　in　short；　to　search　out　the　line　of　least　resistance。　So　I　possessed　my　soul　in　patience　and　worked　and　worked　and　worked。　Often　I　wonder　what　estimate　those　who　lived　about　me；　and　whom　I　met　from　time　to　time；　formed　of　the　studious　young　man　who　was　understood　to　have　been　somewhere　in　Africa。　I　imagine　that　it　was　not　plimentary；　for　if　I　understood　them　they　did　not　understand　me。

Some　pleasures　I　had；　however。　My　journeys　to　London　to　eat　my　dinners　at　Lincoln’s　Inn　were　a　change。　So　were　the　examinations；　though　these　I　faced　with　fear　and　trembling；　having　read　up　for　them　entirely　by　myself；　which　I　imagine　few　people　do。　Occasionally　some　of　my　old　African　friends　came　to　see　me　when　they　were　on　visits　to　England。　Thus　Sir　Theophilus　Shepstone　came；　and　with　what　delight　did　I　wele　him！　Here　is　an　extract　from　a　letter　of　his；　in　which　he　alludes　to　his　proposed　visit；　dated　from　London　on　May　26；　1883：

I　have　only　just　received　your　note　of　the　23rd。　I　see　that　you　sent　it　to　the　Colonial　Office；　but　I　have　not　yet　been　there；　for　I　don’t　think　they　care　much　for　me；　except　perhaps　a　few　personal　friends；　and　with　the　same　exception　the　feeling　is　mutual　as　far　as　I　am　concerned。　I　think　I　shall　make　my　number　there　about　noon　on　Monday　for　the　purpose　of　seeing　those　I　care　for；　but　for　nothing　else。　I　shall　be　very　glad　indeed　to　have　a　look　at　you　again。　How　is　your　good　wife？　I　hope　well　and　strong。

Another　letter　from　Sir　Theophilus　in　this　year　has　some　allusions　of　more　general　interest；　so　I　ost　of　it：

1　Charles　Street；　London：　August　21；　1883。

My　dear　Rider；　—　Your　warm…hearted　and　to　me　most　touching　farewell　letter　reached　me　last　night　on　my　return　from　a　few　days’　rushing　about　the　country　to　say　some　good…byes。

I　am　sure　I　need　not　say；　although　it　is　pleasant　to　me　to　say　it；　that　all　the　affectionate　feeling　which　I　know　you　entertain　for　me　fills　a　warm　place　in　my　heart　for　you　and　for　your　dear　wife。　May　God　bless　and　prosper　you　both！　Of　course　no　one　can　tell　what　may　happen　in　the　future；　or　whether　this　is　a　permanent　or　only　a　temporary　parting。　At　the　dinner　which　was　given　me　by　the　Empire　Club　Sir　Robert　Herbert　spoke　of　me　and　of　my　services　in　the　most　remarkable　language；　and　said　plainly　that　I　was　still　a　young　man　so　far　as　capacity　for　work　went；　and　that　he　hoped　soon　to　see　me　discharging　some　high　function；　etc。　for　the　good　of　the　country；　and　so　on。　It　appeared　as　if　he　spoke　from　some　intention　of　which　he　had　knowledge；　but　my　friend　W。　Sergeaunt；　who　sat　next　to　me；　said　that　if　such　a　speech　had　been　made　by　anyone　else　it　would　have　meant　a　good　deal；　as　it　was　it　meant　nothing；　perhaps　so。　Of　course　every　day　I　have　in　England　adds　to　my　consciousness　of　the　influence　that　I　could　exert　if　I　tried；　but　what　is　the　use　of　it　with　such　an　abject　Government　as　now　rules　and　will　for　years　to　e；　I　fear；　rule　England？

I　am　glad　that　my　speech　did　not　wholly　disgust　you；　I　had　no　idea　that　the　dinner　was　to　be　what　it　was；　still　less　did　I　expect　that　reporters　would　be　there；　so　I　congratulated　myself　when　I　sat　down。　I　shall　look　forward　to　the　publication　of　your　book　with　a　great　deal　of　interest；　the　trouble　is　that　the　real　merits　of　a　book　are　not　the　measure　by　which　it　is　meted；　as　crushed　strawberry　is　preferred　to　the　beautiful　natural　colour　of　the　fruit　because　it　happens　to　be　the　fashion　of　the　season；　so　with　books：　even　they　must　pander　to　the　taste　of　the　hour　whether　it　be　good　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