Ronald flushed in sensitive fashion, but there was no hint of offence in
his manner, as he replied-"It is hardly a question of an attic, sir. My father would not
disinherit me because I preferred literature to business. I might have
a pittance instead of a fortune, but I should not have to fear want.
And why should I not live my own life? If I am bound to meet troubles,
surely it is only right to provide what compensations I can, and my best
compensation would be congenial work! I don't want to be rich. Let
some other fellow take the post, and get his happiness out of it; it
would be slavery to me."
"Humph! No boy likes the idea of putting his nose to the grindstone.
They all kick a bit at the thought of an office desk, but nine out of
ten enjoy the life when they get into the swing. It's a great secret of
happiness in this world, to be kept so busy that we have not time to
think of ourselves. We need work for its own sake, even more than for
what it brings; but our work must be worthy. There's no real success
away from that... About those verses now! It's a pleasant occupation
for you to sling them together--I haven't a word to say against it as a
recreation--but that's a different thing from serious work. There's
only one thing which justifies a man in cutting himself adrift from the
world, in opposition to the wishes of those who have his interests most
at heart, and that is, a strong and solemn conviction of a special
mission in life. Very well then! If you agree so far, let us proceed
to consider the mission of a poet. There's only one justification for
his existence--only one thing that distinguishes him from the
professional rhymester whom nobody wants, and who is the bane and terror
of society, and that is--that he has something to say! Now take your
own case--a lad without as much as a moustache on his face; the son of a
rich father, who has lain soft all his life, and had the bumps rolled
flat before him. What do you imagine that you are going to teach the
world? Do you fondly believe that you have anything to say that has not
been said before, and a thousand times better into the bargain?"
Ronald looked up and gazed dreamily ahead. He had taken off his cap, as
his custom was in these moorland tramps, which were becoming of daily
occurrence, and his hair was ruffled on his forehead, giving an air of
even more than ordinary youth to his face. The hazel eyes were dark,
and the curved lips trembled with emotion; he was searching his soul for
the reply to a question on which more than life seemed to depend, and
while he gazed at the purple mountains with unseeing eyes the Chieftain
gazed at his illumined face, and felt that he had received his answer.