r. f. murray-第6部分

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s　of　proof…reading；　that　weary　meticulous　toil；　so　fatiguing　to　the　eyesight。　　The　hours；　too；　were　very　long；　he　could　do　more　and　better　work　in　fewer　hours。　　No　time；　no　strength；　were　left　for　reading　and　writing。　　He　did；　while　in　Edinburgh；　send　a　few　things　to　magazines；　but　he　did　not　actually　‘bombard'　editors。　　He　is　‘to　live　in　one　room；　and　dine；　if　not　on　a　red　herring；　on　the　next　cheapest　article　of　diet。'　　These　months　of　privation；　at　which　he　laughed；　and　some　weeks　of　reading　proofs；　appear　to　have　quite　undermined　health　which　was　never　strong；　and　which　had　been　sorely　tried　by　‘the　wind　of　a　cursed　to…day；　the　curse　of　a　windy　to…　morrow；'　at　St。　Andrews。　　If　a　reader　observes　in　Murray　a　lack　of　strenuous　diligence；　he　must　attribute　it　less　to　lack　of　resolution；　than　to　defect　of　physical　force　and　energy。　　The　many　bad　colds　of　which　he　speaks　were　warnings　of　the　end；　which　came　in　the　form　of　consumption。　　This　lurking　malady　it　was　that　made　him　wait；　and　dally　with　his　talent。　　He　hit　on　the　idea　of　translating　some　of　Bossuet's　orations　for　a　Scotch　theological　publisher。　Alas！　the　publisher　did　not　anticipate　a　demand；　among　Scotch　ministers；　for　the　Eagle　of　Meaux。　　Murray；　in　his　innocence；　was　startled　by　the　caution　of　the　publisher；　who　certainly　would　have　been　a　heavy　loser。　　‘I　honestly　believe　that；　if　Charles　Dickens　were　now　alive　and　unknown；　and　were　to　offer　the　MS。　of　Pickwick　to　an　Edinburgh　publisher；　that　sagacious　old　individual　would　shake　his　prudent　old　head；　and　refuse　（with　the　utmost　politeness）　to　publish　it！'　　There　is　a　good　deal　of　difference　between　Pickwick　and　a　translation　of　old　French　sermons　about　Madame；　and　Conde；　and　people　of　whom　few　modern　readers　ever　heard。

Alone；　in　Edinburgh；　Murray　was　saddened　by　the　‘unregarding'　irresponsive　faces　of　the　people　as　they　passed。　　In　St。　Andrews　he　probably　knew　every　face；　even　in　Edinburgh　（a　visitor　from　London　thinks）　there　is　a　friendly　look　among　the　passers。　　Murray　did　not　find　it　so。　　He　approached　a　newspaper　office：　　‘he　＇the　Editor　whom　he　met＇　was　extremely　frank；　and　told　me　that　the　tone　of　my　article　onwas　underbred；　while　the　verses　I　had　sent　him　had　nothing　in　them。　　Very　pleasant　for　the　feelings　of　a　young　author；　was　it　not？　。　。　。　Unfavourable　criticism　is　an　excellent　tonic；　but　it　should　be　a　little　diluted　。　。　。　I　must；　however；　do　him　the　justice　to　say　that　he　did　me　a　good　turn　by　introducing　me　to　…；　。　。　。　who　was　kind　and　encouraging　in　the　extreme。'

Murray　now　called　on　the　Editor　of　the　Scottish　Leader；　the　Gladstonian　organ；　whom　he　found　very　courteous。　　He　was　asked　to　write　some　‘leader…notes'　as　they　are　called；　paragraphs　which　appear　in　the　same　columns　as　the　leading　articles。　　These　were　published；　to　his　astonishment；　and　he　was　‘to　be　taken　on　at　a　salary　ofa　week。'　　Let　us　avoid　pecuniary　chatter；　and　merely　say　that　the　sum；　while　he　was　on　trial；　was　not　likely　to　tempt　many　young　men　into　the　career　of　journalism。　　Yet　‘the　work　will　be　very　exacting；　and　almost　preclude　the　possibility　of　my　doing　anything　else。'　　Now；　as　four　leader　notes；　or；　say；　six；　can　be　written　in　an　hour；　it　is　difficult　to　see　the　necessity　for　this　fatigue。　Probably　there　were　many　duties　more　exacting；　and　less　agreeable；　than　the　turning　out　of　epigrams。　　Indeed　there　was　other　work　of　some　more　or　less　mechanical　kind；　and　the　manufacture　of　‘leader　notes'　was　the　least　part　of　Murray's　industry。　　At　the　end　of　two　years　there　was　‘the　prospect　of　a　very　fair　salary。'　　But　there　was　‘night…work　and　everlasting　hurry。'　　‘The　interviewing　of　a　half…　bred　Town…Councillor　on　the　subject　of　gas　and　paving'　did　not　exhilarate　Murray。　　Again；　he　had　to　compile　a　column　of　Literary　News；　from　the　Athenaeum；　the　Academy；　and　so　on；　‘with　comments　and　enlargements　where　possible。'　　This　might　have　been　made　extremely　amusing；　it　sounds　like　a　delightful　task；the　making　of　comments　on　‘Mr。　…　has　finished　a　sonnet：'　‘Mr。　…‘s　poems　are　in　their　fiftieth　thousand：'　‘Miss　…　has　gone　on　a　tour　of　health　to　the　banks　of　the　Yang…tse…kiang：'　‘Mrs。　…　is　engaged　on　a　novel　about　the　Pilchard　Fishery。'　　One　could　make　comments　（if　permitted）　on　these　topics　for　love；　and　they　might　not　be　unpopular。　　But　perhaps　Murray　was　shackled　a　little　by　human　respect；　or　the　prejudices　of　his　editor。　　At　all　events　he　calls　it　‘not　very　inspiring　employment。'　　The　bare　idea；　I　confess；　inspirits　me　extremely。

But　the　literary　follet；　who　delights　in　mild　mischief；　did　not　haunt　Murray。　　He　found　an　opportunity　to　write　on　the　Canongate　Churchyard；　where　Fergusson　lies；　under　the　monument　erected　by　Burns　to　the　boy　of　genius　whom　he　called　his　master。　　Of　course　the　part　of　the　article　which　dealt　with　Fergusson；　himself　a　poet　of　the　Scarlet　Gown；　was　cut　out。　　The　Scotch　do　not　care　to　hear　about　Fergusson；　in　spite　of　their　‘myriad　mutchkined　enthusiasm'　for　his　more　illustrious　imitator　and　successor；　Burns。

At　this　time　Edinburgh　was　honouring　itself；　and　Mr。　Parnell；　by　conferring　its　citizenship　on　that　patriot。　　Murray　was　actually　told　off　‘to　stand　at　a　given　point　of　the　line　on　which　the　hero　marched；'　and　to　write　some　lines　of　‘picturesque　description。'　This　kind　of　thing　could　not　go　on。　　It　was　at　Nelson's　Monument　that　he　stood：　　his　enthusiasm　was　more　for　Nelson　than　for　Mr。　Parnell；　and　he　caught　a　severe　cold　on　this　noble　occasion。　Murray's　opinions　clashed　with　those　of　the　Scottish　Leader；　and　he　withdrew　from　its　service。

Just　a　week　passed　between　the　Parnellian　triumph　and　Murray's　retreat　from　daily　journalism。　　‘On　a　newspaper　one　must　have　no　opinions　except　those　which　are　favourable　to　the　sale　of　the　paper　and　the　filling　of　its　advertisement　columns。'　　That　is　not　precisely　an　accurate　theory。　　Without　knowing　anything　of　the　circumstances；　one　may　imagine　that　Murray　was　rather　impracticable。　Of　course　he　could　not　write　against　his　own　opinions；　but　it　is　unusual　to　expect　any　one　to　do　that；　or　to　find　any　one　who　will　do　it。　　‘Incompatibility　of　temper'　probably　caused　this　secession　from　the　newspaper。

After　various　attempts　to　find　occupation；　he　did　some　proof…reading　for　Messrs。　Constable。　　Among　other　things　he　‘read'　the　journal　of　Lady　Mary　Coke；　privately　printed　for　Lord　Home。　　Lady　Mary；　who　appears　as　a　lively　child　in　The　Heart　of　Midlothian；　‘had　a　taste　for　loo；　gossip；　and　gardening；　but　the　greatest　of　these　is　gossip。'　　The　best　part　of　the　book　is　Lady　Louisa　Stuart's　inimitable　introduction。　　Early　in　October　he　decided　to　give　up　proof…reading：　　the　confinement　had　already　told　on　his　health。　　In　the　letter　which　announces　this　determination　he　describes　a　sermon　of　Principal　Caird：　　‘Voice；　gesture；　language；　thoughtall　in　the　highest　degree；combined　to　make　it　the　most　moving　and　exalted　speech　of　a　man　to　men　that　I　ever　listened　to。'　　‘The　world　is　too　much　with　me；'　he　adds；　as　if　he　and　the　world　were　ever　friends；　or　ever　likely　to　be　friendly。

October　27th　found　him　dating　from　St。　Andrews　again。　　‘St。　Andrews　after　Edinburgh　is　Paradise。'　　His　Dalilah　had　called　him　home　to　her；　and　he　was　never　again　unfaithful。　　He　worked　for　his　firm　friend；　Professor　Meiklejohn；　he　undertook　some　teaching；　and　he　wrote　a　little。　　It　was　at　this　time　that　his　biographer　made　Murray's　acquaintance。　　I　had　been　delighted　with　his　verses　in　College　Echoes；　and　I　asked　him　to　bring　me　some　of　his　more　serious　work。　　But　he　never　brought　them：　　his　old　enemy；　reserve；　overcame　him。　　A　few　of　his　pieces　were　published　‘At　the　Sign　of　the　Ship'　in　Longman's　Magazine；　to　which　he　contributed　occasionally。

From　this　point　there　is　little　in　Murray's　life　to　be　chronicled。　In　1890　his　health　broke　down　entirely；　and　consumption　declared　itself。　　Very　early　in　1891　he　visited　Egypt；　where　it　was　thought　that　some　educational　work　might　be　found　for　him。　　But　he　found　Egypt　cold；　wet；　and　windy；　of　Alexandria　and　the　Mediterranean　he　says　little：　　indeed　he　was　almost　too　weak　and　ill　to　see　what　is　delightful　either　in　nature　or　art。


‘To　aching　eyes　each　landscape　lowers；　To　feverish　pulse　each　gale　blows　chill；　And　Araby's　or　Eden's　bowers　Were　barren　as　this　moorland　hill；'


says　the　least　self…conscious　of　poets。　　Even　so　barren　were　the　rich　Nile　and　so　bleak　the　blue　Mediterranean　waters。　　Though　received　by　the　kindest　and　most　hospitable　friends；　Murray　was　homesick；　and　pined　to　be　in　England；　now　that　spring　was　there。　　He　made　the　great　mistake　of　coming　home　too　early。　　At　Ilminster；　in　his　mother's　home；　he　slowly　faded　out　of　life。　　I　have　not　the　heart　to　quote　his　descriptions　of　brief　yet　laborious　saunters　in　the　coppices；　from　the　letters　which　he　wrote　to　the　lady　of　his　heart。　　He　was　calm；　cheerful；　even　buoyant。　　His　letters　to　his　college　friends　are　all　concerned　with　literature；　or　with　happy　old　times；　and　are　full　of　interest　in　them　and　in　their　happiness。

He　was　not　wholly　idle。　　He　wrote　a　number　of　short　pieces　of　verse　in　Punch；　and　two　or　three　in　the　St。　James's　Gazette。　　Other　work；　no　doubt；　he　planned；　but　his　strength　was　gone。　　In　1891　his　book；　The　Scarlet　Gown；　was　published　by　his　friend；　Mr。　A。　M。　Holden。　The　little　volume；　despite　its　local　character；　was　kindly　received　by　the　Reviews。　　Here；　it　was　plain；　we　had　a　poet　who　was　to　St。　Andrews　what　the　regretted　J。　K。　S。　was　to　Eton　and　Cambridge。　　This　measure　of　success　was　not　calculated　to　displease　our　alumnus　addictissimus。

Friendship　and　love；　he　said；　made　the　summer　of　1892　very　happy　to　him。　　I　last　heard　from　him　in　the　summer　of　1893；　when　he　sent　me　some　of　his　most　pleasing　verses。　　He　was　in　Scotland；　he　had　wandered　back；　a　shadow　of　himself；　to　his　dear　St。　Andrews。　　I　conceived　that　he　was　better；　he　said　nothing　about　his　health。　　It　is　not　easy　to　quote　from　his　letters　to　his　friend；　Mr。　Wallace；　still　written　in　his　beautiful　firm　hand。　　They　are　too　full　of　affectionate　banter：　　they　also　contain　criticisms　on　living　poets：　he　shows　an　admiration；　discriminating　and　not　wholesale；　of　Mr。　Kipling's　verse：　　he　censures　Mr。　Swinburne；　whose　Jacobite　song　（as　he　wrote　to　myself）　did　not　precisely　strike　him　as　the　kind　of　thing　that　Jacobites