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第60部分（第2页）

After　all；　what　is　it；　this　death？　As　I　grow　older　I　seem　to　understand　the　hope　and　beauty　of　it；　and　though　doubtless　I　shall　recoil　afraid；　to　rejoice　that　life　should　close　so　soon。　Better　to　die　than　to　see　those　we　love　die。　For　to　most　of　us　existence　here　at　the　best　is　unhappy。　Goodness　and　the　desire　to　better　the　state　of　others　are　the　only　happy　things　in　it；　and　the　first　in　our　half…brutal　nature　is　hard　to　attain。　But　I　think　it　can　be　attained　if　opportunity　and　space　endure；　and　then；　our　many　past　sins；　errors　and　foulness　of　thought　and　deed　notwithstanding；　why　should　we　fear　to　die？　Surely　those　men　are　mad　who　in　their　little　day　reject　the　offerings　of　religion；　for　through　faith　the　munion　of　the　creature　with　his　Maker　is　real　and　possible　to　him　who　seeks　it；　whatever　the　fashion　of　his　seeking；　and　without　that　munion　light　is　not。　Love　also　is　real　and　immortal；　not　lust；　but　the　love　of　children　and　friends　and　fellow…beings　—　that　light　shall　always　shine。　For　myself　I　hope　to　live　long　enough　to　win　sufficient　success　and　money　to　do　some　little　good　to　others。　If　I　fail　in　the　attempt　。　。　。　may　the　earnest　endeavour　be　accepted！　At　least　we　should　try；　since　all　we　have；　intelligence；　attributes；　means；　is　but　lent　to　us。　I　wonder　if　you　will　set　me　down　as　a　simple　religious　enthusiast　or　as　a　little　mad　with　my　notions　of　the　efficacy　of　faith　and　prayer。　Perhaps　I　am　the　latter　—　sorrow　breeds　it　—　but　at　least　my　madness　is　a　star　to　follow　。　。　。　。

My　dear　Lang；　that　friendship　to　which　you　make　such　touching　allusion　always　has　been；　is　and　will　be　returned　by　myself。　I　will　say　no　more。

In　the　letter　to　which　the　above　e　verses　by　Lockhart　to　exemplify　his　own　state　of　mind；　which；　as　he　says；　“are　good　and　simple”　—　so　good；　and　at　this　moment　so　appropriate　indeed；　that　I　cannot　end　these　remarks　better　than　by　copying　them。

It　is　an　old　belief

？That　on　some　solemn　shore

Beyond　the　sphere　of　grief

？Dear　friends　shall　meet　once　more。

Beyond　the　sphere　of　Time；

？And　Sin；　and　Fate’s　control；

Serene　in　changeless　prime

？Of　body　and　soul。

That　creed　I　fain　would　keep；

？This　hope　I’ll　not　forgo；

Eternal　be　the　sleep；

？Unless　to　waken　so。

And　so　to　Andrew　Lang；　among　men　my　best　friend　perhaps；　and　the　one　with　whom　I　was　most　entirely　in　tune；　farewell　for　a　while。　Of　his　character　and　gifts　I　have　already　written　while　he　was　still　living；　so　I　will　say　no　more　of　them　now。　There　are　few　such；　and　today　the　world　is　poorer　and　greyer　for　the　loss　of　a　pure　and　noble　nature。　For　myself　I　am　more　lonely；　since　of　those　men；　not　of　my　kin；　whom　I　knew　and　loved　while　I　still　was　young；　now　Charles　Longman　and　Arthur　Cochrane　alone　are　left。

I　find　also　another　letter　from　Lang　dated　June　2；　1902；　in　which　he　informs　me　of　the　death　of　a　second　brother　—　“my　little　brother；　he　was　always　little；　and　ten　years　younger　than　I。　。　。　。　I　tell　you　because　you　are　a　good　fellow　if　ever　there　was　one；　and　so　was　he；”　etc。

I　quote　no　more；　according　to　the　rule　I　have　made　as　to　certain　matters　which　belong　to　the　private　lives　of　others。　My　answer；　however；　which　is　pinned　to　the　letter；　may　be　printed；　as　that　is　my　affair　and　only　portrays　my　private　views。

June　6；　1902。

My　dear　Andrew；　—　Very　well　I　won’t　write　about　it；　but　try　to　take　fort。　I　am　sure　that　no　affections　are　so　perfect　as　those　which　have　passed　through　the　fires　of　death；　and　often　I　think　that　as　sometimes　we　grow　away　from　the　living；　so　always　do　we　grow　nearer　to　the　desired　dead　—　in　spirit；　I　mean。

It　is　a　strange　world；　especially　to　those　who　feel　much；　but　the　only　things　to　do　seem　to　be　to　work　on　to　the　best　of　one’s　ability；　to　be　very　sorry　for　one’s　sins；　and　in　great　humbleness　to　wait　till　the　mortal　tide　engulfs　us　also　—　hoping　that　beneath　or　beyond　it　we　may　find　peace；　understanding　and　our　perfect　part。　If　I　am　sure　of　anything　I　am　sure　that　Man　has　a　living　Spirit；　and　that　he　does　not　suffer　so　much　to　please　the　laws　of　Matter　or　a　god　called　Chance。　With　true　sympathy；

Your　affec。　friend；

H。　Rider　Haggard。

Some　days　after　Lang’s　death　I　received　a　letter　from　Charles　Longman　of　which　I　will　quote　a　passage　that　deals　with　the　character　of　Andrew　Lang　and　the　friendship　we　both　had　for　him。

Yes；　you　and　I　will　always　feel　a　blank　when　we　think　of　Andrew　Lang。　He　was　of　all　men　the　most　loyal　to　his　friends　—　it　was　one　of　his　most　marked　characteristics；　and　there　had　been　a　bond　between　us　three　which　nothing　could　break。　As　you　know；　I　had　been　anxious　about　him　this　spring；　though　not　about　his　heart；　which　the　doctor　had　lately　examined　without　finding　anything　wrong。　But　his　eyesight　was　threatened；　and　there　was　this　strange　depression　about　public　affairs；　which　seemed　as　though　it　might　grow　worse。　In　old　days　when　he　was　bright　and　cheerful　it　is　little　he　troubled　himself　about　strikes　and　such…like。　So　it　may　be　that　he　—　and　those　who　loved　him　—　have　been　spared　something　by　his　swift　end。　But　the　breaking　of　an　unclouded　friendship　of　five…and…forty　years　is　no　light　thing：　as　you　say；　one　must　hope　that　the　break　is　but　a　temporary　one　and　that　there　is　some　other　meeting…place　for　friends。　Matt。　Arnold　says：

“Sad　fate　of　every　mortal　lot

Which　man；　proud　man；　finds　hard　to　bear；

And　builds　himself；　I　know　not　what

Of　second　life；　I　know　not　where。”

At　some　date　before　he　died　Lang　asked　his　wife　to　give　to　me　a　certain　ring　in　token　of　remembrance。　I　have　now　received　and　shall　always　wear　this　ring。　It　belonged　to　Queen　Taia；　the　wife　of　Amenophis　III；　or　perhaps　to　Nefertiti；　her　daughter…inlaw；　who　married　the　famous　Khu…en…aten；　the　fourth　Amenophis　and　the　remarkable　Pharaoh　who　inaugurated　what　the　priests　of　Amen　considered　the　heresy　of　the　worship　of　the　Sun’s　Disc；　by　which；　I　take　it；　he　symbolised　the　one　Almighty　God　who　made　the　world。　On　this　ring；　which；　I　think；　from　the　length　of　time　that　it　had　evidently　been　worn；　must　have　adorned　the　hand　of　Taia　some　3500　years　ago；　is　engraved　a　cat　adoring　Ra　or　the　Sun；　or　perhaps　the　“Aten”　or　Disc。　I　already　possess　th