the days of my life-第108章

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the　Divinity　of　Christ’s　own　perfect　nature。　That　all　Love　is　immortal。　It　is　God’s　light　permeating　the　universe；　and　therefore　incapable　of　diminution　or　decay。　That　Christianity　is　true；　although　I　do　not　understand　and　have　no　right　as　yet　to　expect　to　understand　the　origin　of　its　mysteries　or　the　reason　of　the　necessity　for　its　great　Sacrifice。　Its　fruits　upon　earth　alone　suffice　to　show　that　it　is　true；　since　by　the　fruit　it　bears　must　every　tree　be　judged。　That　the　heart　of　Faith　is　Christ；　and　that　to　His　Cross　I　cling。
Such　are　the　conclusions　—　old　conclusions；　but　none　the　worse　for　that；　since　each　soul　must　find　them　for　itself　—　reached　during　the　lifetime　of　a　storm…driven；　wayward　man　with　too　much　heart；　perhaps；　for　happiness　here　below；　who　yet；　he　trusts；　is　not　altogether　bad。　For　if　he　be　bad　why；　from　his　mother　on；　should　so　many　of　his　panions　in　this　winter　pilgrimage　have　been　moved　to　love　him　well　—　as　he　prays　that；　notwithstanding　all　his　errors；　God　does　also　and　will　do　for　aye！　Amen。
Chapter　24　APPENDIX
＇The　following　speech　was　delivered　to　the　Canadian　Club；　in　the　Russell　House；　Ottawa；　in　March　1905；　when　Sir　Rider　Haggard　（at　that　time　Mr。　H。　Rider　Haggard）　was　in　Canada　as　missioner　appointed　by　the　Colonial　Office。　His　instructions　were　to　visit　and　report　on　Labour　Colonies　established　in　the　U。S。A。　by　the　Salvation　Army。　After　inspecting　them　he　was　to　proceed　to　Ottawa　and　discuss　the　subject　with　Earl　Grey；　then　Governor…General　of　Canada。
Sir　Rider　wished　this　speech　to　be　inserted　as　an　appendix　to　“The　Days　of　My　Life；”　as　it　gives　the　essence　of　his　views　on　the　subject　of　the　settlement　of　the　surplus　town　population　of　Great　Britain　on　the　unoccupied　land　of　the　empire；　a　subject　to　which　he　devoted　so　much　time　and　energy。
mander　Booth　Tucker；　of　the　Salvation　Army；　was　with　Sir　Rider　on　this　occasion；　and　also　spoke。　There　was　a　record　attendance　of　members　of　the　Canadian　Club；　Mr。　W。　L。　Mackenzie　King　（Prime　Minister　of　the　Dominion　in　June　1926）　being　in　the　Chair。　—　Ed。＇
I　will　begin　by　making　a　confession。　The　other　day　I　had　the　honour　of　addressing　the　branch　of　your　society　in　Toronto；　and　there；　for　one　solid　half…hour；　did　I　inflict　myself　upon　them。　I　began　to　wonder　how　much　they　would　stand。　Well；　I　sat　down　and　thought　they　must　bless　me　for　doing　so。　The　next　day　I　saw　some　of　the　newspapers；　including　one　which　stated　that　your　humble　servant　had　made　what　they　were　pleased　to　call　a　very　interesting　but　exceedingly　brief　address。　I　thought　to　myself：　If　this　is　called　brief　in　Toronto；　I　wonder　what　is　long。　I　took　a　few　opinions　on　the　point。　I　asked　why　they　called　a　speech　of　that　length　a　brief　one。　My　friend’s　answer　was　that　it　had　to　do　with　your　parliamentary　institutions。　He　told　me　that　it　on　in　your　House　of　mons　throughout　the　country；　for　speeches　to　run　from　two　to　three　hours；　and　therefore　that　is　the　standard　and　model　of　time　by　which　addresses　are　judged。
Now；　gentleman；　I　say　to　you　at　once　that；　high　as　might　be　that　honour　and　greatly　as　I　should　desire　it　in　any　other　circumstances；　I　feel　that　I　should　never　be　petent　to　be　a　member　of　a　House　of　mons　of　which　this　is　true。　Gentlemen；　your　president　has　made　some　very　kind　allusions　to　me　and　to　my　rather　—　what　shall　I　call　it？　—　varied　career。　He　has　spoken；　for　instance；　of　Africa。　Well；　gentlemen；　it　is　true　I　began　my　life　as　a　public　servant　in　Africa；　and　many　wonderful　things　I　saw　there。
I　was　in　at　the　beginning；　so　to　speak；　of　all　the　history　we　are　living　through　today。　I　was　with　Sir　Theophilus　Shepstone　when　we　annexed　the　Transvaal；　as　your　president　says；　I　had　the　honour　of　hoisting　the　flag　of　England　over　it。　Gentlemen；　I　lived；　too；　to　see　the　flag　pulled　down　and　buried。　And　I　tell　you　this　—　and　you；　as　colonists　as　I　was；　will　sympathise　with　me　—　it　was　the　bitterest　hour　of　my　life。　Never　can　any　of　you　in　this　room　realise　the　scene　I　witnessed　upon　the　market…square　of　Newcastle　when　the　news　of　the　surrender　of　Majuba　reached　us。　It　was　a　strange　scene；　it　was　an　awful　scene。　There　was　a　mob　of　about　5；000　men；　many　of　them　loyal　Boers；　many　Englishmen；　soldiers　even；　who　had　broken　from　the　ranks　—　and　they　marched　up　and　down　raving；　yet　weeping　like　children　—　and　swearing　that　whatever　they　were　they　were　no　longer　Englishmen。
That　is　what　I　went　through　in　those　days；　and　I　only　mention　it　to　tell　you　how　I　came　to　leave　South　Africa。　For　I　agreed　that　it　was　no　longer　a　place　for　an　Englishman。　Still；　time　goes　on；　the　wheels　swing　full　circle；　things　change。　I　remember　that　after　that　I　wrote　a　book。　It　was　a　history。　And　in　that　book　I　went　so　far　as　to　say　—　I　remember　it　well；　and　there　it　stands　in　black　and　white　to　be　read　—　that　unless　some　change　occurred；　unless　more　wisdom；　more　patriotism　and　a　different　system　altogether　prevailed　in　African　affairs；　the　result　would　be　a　war　which　would　tax　the　entire　resources　of　the　British　Empire。　Gentlemen；　have　we　not　had　that　war？　And　at　that　time　what　did　they　say？　They　laughed　at　me；　an　unknown　young　man。　And；　years　later；　when　the　war　was　on；　they　dug　up　the　book　and　printed　these　paragraphs　and　said；　“Dear　me；　what　a　remarkable　prophecy！”　Three　men　were　right：　Sir　Bartle　Frere　was　right；　and　they　disgraced　him；　my　old　chief；　Sir　Theophilus　Shepstone；　was　right；　and　they　disgraced　him；　and　even　I；　humble　as　I　was；　was　right；　and　they　mocked　at　me。　We　know　the　end。
Thus　my　residential　and　official　connection　with　South　Africa　came　to　an　end　—　I　would　not　stop　there　any　longer。　I　came　home　and　went　to　the　bar；　where　I　had　fair　prospects。　And　then　a　sad　thing　happened　to　me　—　I　wrote　a　successful　book。
I　do　not　know　whether　to　be　sorry　or　glad　that　I　wrote　it。　Other　things　might　not　have　happened；　and；　after　all；　as　Job　the　Patriarch　says：　“Man　knoweth　not　his　own　way。”　You　go　as　destiny　drives　you。　So　it　was；　gentlemen；　I　took　to　fiction。　Having　begun；　I　had　to　go　on。　And；　after　all；　there　is　something　to　be　said　for　it。　After　all；　it　is　not　a　bad　thing　to　have　given　pleasure　and　amusement　to　many　who　are　weary　or　sick；　and；　perhaps；　some　instruction　also。　You　might　do　worse　than　to　write　a　good　novel。　Not　that　I　for　a　moment　wish　to　state　that　all　of　mine　are　good。
Of　course；　the　time　es　to　every　writer；　I　suppose；　when　he　has　an　inspiration　and　does　something　which　he　knows　to　be　better　than　he　ever　did　before。　Perhaps　he　sees　a　little　higher　up　into　heaven　perhaps　he　sees　a　little　lower　down　into　—　the　other　depths；　and　he　creates　something　and　knows　that　that　thing　which　he　has　created　will　live；　and　that　it　will　even　go　glittering　down　the　generations。　He　knows；　perhaps；　that　he　has　cut　his　name　fairly　deep　upon　the　iron　leaves　of　the　Book　of　Time；　which　are　so　hard　to　mark。　Perhaps　he　knows　that；　and　for　a　little　while　he　is　content。　Not　for　long　—　no　artist；　I　think；　is　ever　contented　for　long　with　what　he　has　done。　But　he　thinks：　“At　least；　I　have　done　something。”
Then；　perhaps；　he　begins　to　understand　—　it　es　into　his　mind　—　that　that　was　not　his　real　inspiration。　Not　in　these　gauds　of　the　imagination；　these　sparkling　things；　these　plays　of　fancy　or　of　eloquence　or　wit；　was　the　real　inspiration　to　be　found。　He　turns　and　wonders　where　it　is。　And　he　turns；　let　us　say；　and　looks　at　the　dull　masses　of　misery　that　pervade　the　globe；　he　looks　and　wonders；　and　he　thinks：　Is　there　nothing　that　I；　humble　as　I　am；　can　do　to　help　to　alleviate　that　misery；　to　lift　up　those　who　are　fallen；　to　lift　them　up　for　their　own　good　and　for　the　good　of　the　world？　And　then；　gentlemen；　he　knows　that　that；　not　the　gaudy；　exciting　work　is　the　real　inspiration　of　his　life。
And；　perhaps；　he　turns　and　tries　to　match　his　own　single　strength　against　the　prejudices　of　generations；　and　tries　to　get　men　to　think　as　he　does；　tries　to　show　them　where　the　evil　lies　and　where；　too；　lies　the　remedy。　Gentlemen；　I　have　spoken；　as　it　were；　in　allegory。　And　yet　these　things　have　some　application；　certainly　in　my　humble　case　they　have　some　application。　Years　ago；　I　saw　what　I　described　to　you；　I　saw　the　evils　with　which；　since　then；　I　have　attempted　to　cope。　I　recognised　that　it　was　my　duty　to　cope　with　them　if　I　could。
It　is　a　hard　task；　gentlemen。　It　is　a　hard　thing；　in　the　first　place；　to　live　down　the　reputation　of　being　a　writer　of　fiction　—　to　surmount　the　enormous　barrier　of　prejudice　that　lies　across　one’s　path。　And　it　is　not　for　years；　perhaps；　that　people　will　begin　to　listen　and　will　begin　to　understand　that　to　most　men’s　minds　there　are　two　sides。　Still；　humbly；　imperfectly；　I　did　attempt　it。　I　have　not　done　much。　Yet　I　have　done　something。　They　listen　to　me　now　a　bit。　If　they　had　not　listened　to　me　I　should　not　be　here　in　my　present　position　today　as　a　missioner　from　the　Government　of　Great　Britain。
Well；　what　is　it；　what　is　this　problem　that　moved　me？　I　will　tell　you　in　a　few　words。　I　perceived　and　realised　the　enormous　change　that　is　ing　over　the　Western　world；　how　those；　who　for　countless　generations；　dwelt　upon　the　land；　are　deserting　the　land　and　crowding　into　the　cities。　I　studied　the　reasons　for　this。　For　two　years　I　studied　them；　going　through　England；　village　by　village；　co