the americanization of edward bok- 第47部分

〃By　whom？〃

〃The　critics；　for　instance；〃　replied　Bok。

〃There　are　no　such；〃　came　the　answer。

〃No　such　what；　Mr。　Kipling？〃　asked　Bok。

〃Critics。〃

〃No　critics？〃

〃No；〃　and　for　the　first　time　the　pipe　was　removed　for　a　moment。　〃A　critic　is　one　who　only　exists　as　such　in　his　own　imagination。〃

〃But　surely　you　must　consider　that　Rud　has　done　some　great　work？〃　persisted　Bok。

〃Creditable；〃　came　once　more。

〃You　think　him　capable　of　great　work；　do　you　not？〃　asked　Bok。　For　a　moment　there　was　silence。　Then：

〃He　has　a　certain　grasp　of　the　human　instinct。　That；　some　day；　I　think；　will　lead　him　to　write　a　great　work。〃

There　was　the　secret：　the　constant　holding　up　to　the　son；　apparently；　of　something　still　to　be　accomplished；　of　a　goal　to　be　reached；　of　a　higher　standard　to　be　attained。　Rudyard　Kipling　was　never　in　danger　of　unintelligent　laudation　from　his　safest　and　most　intelligent　reader。

During　the　years　which　intervened　until　his　passing　away；　Bok　sought　to　keep　in　touch　with　Father　Kipling；　and　received　the　most　wonderful　letters　from　him。　One　day　he　enclosed　in　a　letter　a　drawing　which　he　had　made　showing　Sakia　Muni　sitting　under　the　bo…tree　with　two　of　his　disciples；　a　young　man　and　a　young　woman；　gathered　at　his　feet。　It　was　a　piece　of　exquisite　drawing。　〃I　like　to　think　of　you　and　your　work　in　this　way；〃　wrote　Mr。　Kipling；　〃and　so　I　sketched　it　for　you。〃　Bok　had　the　sketch　enlarged；　engaged　John　La　Farge　to　translate　it　into　glass；　and　inserted　it　in　a　window　in　the　living…room　of　his　home　at　Merion。

After　Father　Kipling　had　passed　away；　the　express　brought　to　Bok　one　day　a　beautiful　plaque　of　red　clay；　showing　the　elephant's　head；　the　lotus；　and　the　swastika；　which　the　father　had　made　for　the　son。　It　was　the　original　model　of　the　insignia　which；　as　a　watermark；　is　used　in　the　pages　of　Kipling's　books　and　on　the　cover　of　the　subscription　edition。

〃I　am　sending　with　this　for　your　acceptance；〃　wrote　Kipling　to　Bok；　〃as　some　little　memory　of　my　father　to　whom　you　were　so　kind；　the　original　of　one　of　the　plaques　that　he　used　to　make　for　me。　I　thought　it　being　the　swastika　would　be　appropriate　for　your　swastika。　May　it　bring　you　even　more　good　fortune。〃

To　those　who　knew　Lockwood　Kipling；　it　is　easier　to　understand　the　genius　and　the　kindliness　of　the　son。　For　the　sake　of　the　public's　knowledge；　it　is　a　distinct　loss　that　there　is　not　a　better　understanding　of　the　real　sweetness　of　character　of　the　son。　The　public's　only　idea　of　the　great　writer　is　naturally　one　derived　from　writers　who　do　not　understand　him；　or　from　reporters　whom　he　refused　to　see；　while　Kipling's　own　slogan　is　expressed　in　his　own　words：　〃I　have　always　managed　to　keep　clear　of　'personal'　things　as　much　as　possible。〃

　　If

　　If　you　can　keep　your　head　when　all　about　you　　　　　Are　losing　theirs　and　blaming　it　on　you；　　　If　you　can　trust　yourself　when　all　men　doubt　you；　　　　　But　make　allowance　for　their　doubting　too；　　　If　you　can　wait　and　not　grow　tired　by　waiting　　　　　Or；　being　lied　about　don't　deal　in　lies；　　　　　Or；　being　hated；　don't　give　way　to　hating；　　　And　yet　don't　look　too　good　or　talk　too　wise；

　　If　you　can　dream　and　not　make　dreams　your　master；　　　　　If　you　can　think　and　not　make　thoughts　your　aim；　　　If　you　can　meet　with　triumph　and　disaster；　　　　　And　treat　those　two　imposters　just　the　same；　　　If　you　can　stand　to　hear　the　truth　you've　spoken　　　　　Twisted　by　Knaves　to　make　a　trap　for　fools；　　　Or　watch　the　work　you've　given　your　life　to　broken；　　　　　And　stoop　and　build　it　up　with　worn…out　tools；

　　If　you　can　make　one　pile　of　all　your　winnings　　　　　And　risk　it　at　one　game　of　pitch…and…toss；　　　And　lose；　and　start　again　from　your　beginnings　　　　　And　never　breath　a　word　about　your　loss；　　　If　you　can　force　you　heart　and　nerve　and　sinew　　　　　To　serve　your　turn　long　after　they　are　gone；　　　And　so　hold　on；　though　there　is　nothing　in　you　　　　　Except　the　will　that　says　to　them；　〃Hold　on！〃

　　If　you　can　talk　to　crowds　and　keep　your　virtue；　　　　　And　walk　with　Kings　nor　lose　the　common　touch；　　　If　neither　foes　nor　loving　friends　can　hurt　you；　　　　　If　all　men　count　with　you；　but　none　too　much；　　　If　you　can　fill　the　unforgiving　minute　　　　　With　sixty　seconds　worth　of　distance　run；　　　Yours　is　the　Earth　and　everything　that's　in　it　　　　　Andwhich　is　moreyou'll　be　a　Man；　my　son！

　　Copied　out　from　memory　by　Rudyard　Kipling。　　　Batemons：　Sept。　1913　　　for　E。W。　Bok　on　his　50th　Birthday

It　was　on　Bok's　fiftieth　birthday　that　Kipling　sent　him　a　copy　of　〃If。〃　Bok　had　greatly　admired　this　poem；　but　knowing　Kipling's　distaste　for　writing　out　his　own　work；　he　had　resisted　the　strong　desire　to　ask　him　for　a　copy　of　it。　It　is　significant　of　the　author's　remarkable　memory　that　he　wrote　it；　as　he　said；　〃from　memory；〃　years　after　its　publication；　and　yet　a　comparison　of　the　copy　with　the　printed　form；　corrected　by　Kipling；　fails　to　discover　the　difference　of　a　single　word。

The　lecture　bureaus　now　desired　that　Edward　Bok　should　go　on　the　platform。　Bok　had　never　appeared　in　the　role　of　a　lecturer；　but　he　reasoned　that　through　the　medium　of　the　rostrum　he　might　come　in　closer　contact　with　the　American　public；　meet　his　readers　personally；　and　secure　some　first…hand　constructive　criticism　of　his　work。　This　last　he　was　always　encouraging。　It　was　a　naive　conception　of　a　lecture　tour；　but　Bok　believed　it　and　he　contracted　for　a　tour　beginning　at　Richmond；　Virginia；　and　continuing　through　the　South　and　Southwest　as　far　as　Saint　Joseph；　Missouri；　and　then　back　home　by　way　of　the　Middle　West。

Large　audiences　greeted　him　wherever　he　went；　but　he　had　not　gone　far　on　his　tour　when　he　realized　that　he　was　not　getting　what　he　thought　he　would。　There　was　much　entertaining　and　lionizing；　but　nothing　to　help　him　in　his　work　by　pointing　out　to　him　where　he　could　better　it。　He　shrank　from　the　pitiless　publicity　that　was　inevitable；　he　became　more　and　more　self…conscious　when　during　the　first　five　minutes　on　the　stage　he　felt　the　hundreds　of　opera…glasses　levelled　at　him；　and　he　and　Mrs。　Bok；　who　accompanied　him；　had　not　a　moment　to　themselves　from　early　morning　to　midnight。　Yet　his　large　correspondence　was　following　him　from　the　office；　and　the　inevitable　invitations　in　each　city　had　at　least　to　be　acknowledged。　Bok　realized　he　had　miscalculated　the　benefits　of　a　lecture　tour　to　his　work；　and　began　hopefully　to　wish　for　the　ending　of　the　circuit。

One　afternoon　as　he　was　returning　with　his　manager　from　a　large　reception；　the　〃impresario〃　said　to　him：　〃I　don't　like　these　receptions。　They　hurt　the　house。〃

〃The　house？〃　echoed　Bok。

〃Yes；　the　attendance。〃

〃But　you　told　me　the　house　for　this　evening　was　sold　out？〃　said　the　lecturer。

〃That　is　true　enough。　House；　and　even　the　stage。　Not　a　seat　unsold。　But　hundreds　just　come　to　see　you　and　not　to　hear　your　lecture；　and　this　exposure　of　a　lecturer　at　so　crowded　a　reception　as　this；　before　the　talk；　satisfies　the　people　without　their　buying　a　ticket。　My　rule　is　that　a　lecturer　should　not　be　seen　in　public　before　his　lecture；　and　I　wish　you　would　let　me　enforce　the　rule　with　you。　It　wears　you　out；　anyway；　and　no　receptions　until　afterward　will　give　you　more　time　for　yourself　and　save　your　vitality　for　the　talk。〃

Bok　was　entirely　acquiescent。　He　had　no　personal　taste　for　the　continued　round　of　functions；　but　he　had　accepted　it　as　part　of　the　game。

The　idea　from　this　talk　that　impressed　Bok；　however；　with　particular　force；　was　that　the　people　who　crowded　his　houses　came　to　see　him　and　not　to　hear　his　lecture。　Personal　curiosity；　in　other　words。　This　was　a　new　thought。　He　had　been　too　busy　to　think　of　his　personality；　now　he　realized　a　different　angle　to　the　situation。　And；　much　to　his　manager's　astonishment；　two　days　afterwards　Bok　refused　to　sign　an　agreement　for　another　tour　later　in　the　year。　He　had　had　enough　of　exhibiting　himself　as　a　curiosity。　He　continued　his　tour；　but　before　its　conclusion　fell　illa　misfortune　with　a　pleasant　side　to　it；　for　three　of　his　engagements　had　to　be　cancelled。

The　Saint　Joseph　engagement　could　not　be　cancelled。　The　house　had　been　oversold；　it　was　for　the　benefit　of　a　local　charity　which　besought　Bok　by　wire　after　wire　to　keep　a　postponed　date。　He　agreed；　and　he　went。　He　realized　that　he　was　not　well；　but　he　did　not　realize　the　extent　of　his　mental　and　physical　exhaustion　until　he　came　out　on　the　platform　and　faced　the　crowded　auditorium。　Barely　sufficient　space　had　been　left　for　him　and　for　the　speaker's　desk；　the　people　on　the　stage　were　close　to　him；　and　he　felt　distinctly　uncomfortable。

Then；　to　his　consternation；　it　suddenly　dawned　upon　him　that　his　tired　mind　had　played　a　serious　trick　on　him。　He　did　not　remember　a　line　of　his　lecture；　he　could　not　even　recall　how　it　began！　He　arose；　after　his　introduction；　in　a　bath　of　cold　perspiration。　The　applause　gave　him　a　moment　to　recover　himself；　but　not　a　word　came　to　his　mind。　He　sparred　for　time　by　some　informal　prefatory　remarks　expressing　regret　at　his　illness　and　that　he　had　been　compelled　to　disappoint　his　audience　a　few　days　before；　and　then　he　stood　helpless！　In　sheer　desperation　he　looked　at　Mrs。　Bok　sitting　in　the　stage　box；　who；　divining　her　husband's　plight；　motioned　to　the　inside　pocket　of　his　coat。　He　put　his　hand　there　and　pulled　out　a　copy　of　his　lecture　which　she　had　placed　there！　The　whole　tragic　comedy　had　happened　so　quickly　that　the　audience　was　absolutely　unaware　of　what　had　occurred；　and　Bok　went　on　and　practically　read　his　lecture。　But　it　was　not　a　successful　evening　for　his　audience　or　for　himself；　and　the　one　was　doubtless　as　glad　when　it　was　over　as　the　other。

When　he　reached　home；　he　was　convinced　that　he　had　had　enough　of　lecturing！　He　had　to　make　a　second　short　tour；　however；　for　which　he　had　contracted　with　another　manager　before　embarking　on　the　first。　This　tour　took　him　to　Indianapolis；　and　after　the　lecture；　James　Whitcomb　Riley　gave　him　a　supper。　There　were　some　thirty　men　in　the　party；　the　affair　was　an　exceedingly　happy　one；　the　happiest　that　Bok　had　attended。　He　said　this　to　Riley　on　the　way　to　the　hotel。

〃Usually；〃　said　Bok；　〃men；　for　some　reason　or　other；　hold　aloof　from　me　on　these　lecture　tours。　They　stand　at　a　distance　and　eye　me；　and　I　see　wonder　on　their　faces　rather　than　a　desire　to　mix。〃