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 Brief Table of Contents

Detailed table of contents

Preface
Guided tour
Technology to enhance learning and teaching
Make the grade!
Acknowledgements
About the author

PART 1: What is Management?

1 Defining Management
2 The Organisational Context
3 The Historical Context

PART 2: Management Processes

4 Planning and Strategy
5 Organisational Structures and Teamwork
6 Organisational Change
7 Staffing – Selecting, Developing and Motivating People
8 Leading and Leadership
9 Decision-making
10 Controlling
11 Reporting and Communicating
12 Budgeting

PART 3: Management Functions

13 Introduction to Management Functions
14 Marketing
15 Operations
16 Human Resources Management
17 Finance and Accounting

8
 18 Information Management

PART 4: Personal Perspectives on Management

19 Social Responsibility and Business Ethics
20 Management Fads, Gurus and Research

References
Index

9
 Detailed Table of Contents

Preface
Guided tour
Technology to enhance learning and teaching
Make the grade!
Acknowledgements
About the author

PART 1: What is Management?

1 Defining Management
Case 1.1: Managing birds or bytes?
1.1 Definition of management
Critical thinking 1.1: Is management necessary?
1.2 Varieties of manager
Case 1.2: A modern entrepreneur – Peter Cuddas
Critical thinking 1.2: Why do business schools ignore first-line
managers?
Critical thinking 1.3: C-suite inflation
1.3 Skills and abilities needed by managers
Critical thinking 1.4: What? No Freudian personality?
1.4 Careers in management
Case 1.3: Duncan Bannatyne’s protean career?
Critical thinking 1.5: What’s the use of management books?
Activities and Further study

2 The Organisational Context

Case 2.1: Dave Banks – an interesting sole trader
2.1 Types of organisation
Case 2.2: A Virginal conglomerate
Case 2.3: The Kerry group – an Irish multinational
2.2 Organisational cultures

10
 2.3 National cultures
Critical thinking 2.1: Hofstede’s critics
2.4 The global context and globalisation
Case 2.4: Reckitt Benckiser – a truly globalised company
Case 2.5: Footloose and in search of cheaper labour
Case 2.6: Examples of joint global ventures
Critical thinking 2.2: Pitfalls of globalisation?
2.5 Globalisation toolkit
Activities and further study

3 The Historical Context

Case 3.1: PROTON city of the future – or of the past?
3.1 Early beginnings
3.2 Scientific management (rational goal)
Case 3.2: Management ideas that can be traced back to Bolton and
Watt
Case 3.3: Taylor’s lectures on management, 1907–1915
Critical thinking 3.1: What was wrong with Fordism?
Critical thinking 3.2: Problems with quantitative methods
3.3 Classical (administrative) theorists
Critical thinking 3.3: Was Weber wrong?
3.4 Human relations
Critical thinking 3.4: What were the weaknesses of the Human
Relations School?
3.5 Systems theory
3.6 Contingency theory
Critical thinking 3.5: Management history – not bunk for Bill
Smith
Activities and further study

PART 2: Management Processes

4 Planning and Strategy
Case 4.1: Advantages of planning an assignment
4.1 Definition of planning and the various types of plan
4.2 Mission statements and visions
Critical thinking 4.1: Problems with mission and vision
statements
4.3 Strategic plans
Case 4.2: Strategic planning in the NHS
Case 4.3: Unison’s PEST analysis
Case 4.4: Strategies that failed – Marconi and the Royal Bank of

11
Scotland
Critical thinking 4.2: Criticisms of strategic planning?
4.4 Tactical plans
4.5 Operational plans
4.6 Management by objectives (a synthesis of types of plan?)
Critical thinking 4.3: Weaknesses of MBO
4.7 Advantages and disadvantages of planning and strategy?
4.8 Planning toolkit
Activities and further study

5 Organisational Structures and Teamwork

Case 5.1: Organisational restructuring at Pilkington in Australia
5.1 Definition of organising and organisational structures
5.2 Formal and informal organisational structures
5.3 Job design
Critical thinking 5.1: Hot desks and employer commitment
5.4 Teams and teamwork
Case 5.2: The C-suite teams at Goldman-Sachs etc.
Critical thinking 5.2: What is wrong with self-managed teams?
5.5 Types of organisational structure
5.6 Major organisational dimensions
5.7 Organising toolkit
Activities and further study

6 Organisational Change
Case 6.1: Nokia’s organisational change – from manufacturing
galoshes to mobile phone behemoth to ailing multinational
6.1 Definition and reasons why organisations change
Critical thinking 6.1: Is change faster nowadays?
Critical thinking 6.2: How to spot change blockers
6.2 Types of organisational change
6.3 The phases of change
Critical thinking 6.3: What is wrong with Lewin’s stages?
6.4 Techniques of changing organisations
Critical thinking 6.4: What is wrong with Lewin’s action learning
cycle?
Critical thinking 6.5: The Wild West of organisational change
6.5 Change toolkit
Activities and further study

7 Staffing – Selecting, Developing and Motivating People

12
 Case 7.1: Investing in People at Eversheds
7.1 Definition and introduction to the staffing process
7.2 Job descriptions and personnel specifications
Critical thinking 7.1: When height is a valid qualification for a job
7.3 Recruiting and selecting (employee resourcing)
Case 7.2: Selection of technical managers
Critical thinking 7.2: Lies, damn lies and cvs
Critical thinking 7.3: The long-known weakness of traditional
interviews
7.4 Training and developing (employee development)
Critical thinking 7.4: Are case studies shared ignorance?
7.5 Motivating
Critical thinking 7.5: What is wrong with Maslow and Herzberg?
7.6 Staffing toolkit
Activities and further study

8 Leading and Leadership

Case 8.1: Terry Leahy – Tesco’s finest
8.1 Definition and concept of leadership
Critical thinking 8.1: Management versus leadership – a false
dichotomy
8.2 Leaders
Critical thinking 8.2: Do researchers understate links between
traits and leader effectiveness because they only think in straight
lines?
Case 8.2: Edsel Ford: a rare example of hereditary leadership
Case 8.3: Koresh’s toxic leadership in Waco
8.3 Leaders and followers Critical thinking 8.3: It’s the results
that matter – not the leadership style
8.4 Situations and leading Critical thinking 8.4: Face-to-face
leaders versus electronic leaders
Critical thinking 8.5: Post-heroic leadership – Planet Utopia?
Critical thinking 8.6: Leadership – philosophical, cynical and
scientific views
Critical thinking 8.7: Flaws in leadership research
8.5 New directions for leadership research
8.6 Leadership toolkit
Activities and further study

9 Decision-making
Case 9.1: A good “bad decision” to clean microwave ovens

13
 9.1 Definition and types of decision
Case 9.2: To tea or not to tea
Case 9.3: Healthy Pepsi
Critical thinking 9.1: Lehman Brothers’ risk busts the bank
9.2 Styles of decision-making
Critical thinking 9.2: What’s the use of Vroom and Jago’s model?
9.3 The rational decision paradigm –decision-making in ideal
circumstances
Critical thinking 9.3: What is wrong with the rational decision
paradigm?
9.4 Decision-making techniques
Case 9.4: BodyCheck decides on its cardio equipment
9.5 Common problems in decision-making
9.6 Decision toolkit
Activities and further study

10 Controlling
Case 10.1: Poor control – Baring’s banker, Toyota’s troubles and
Perrier’s poison
10.1 Definition and need for control
10.2 Components of control
Case 10.2: Massaging control data in the British National Health
Service
Case 10.3: Correcting MPs’ expenses costs more than their
fiddling!
10.3 Types of control system
Critical thinking 10.1: Carpe diem gets control – for Goodhart!
10.4 The balanced scorecard
10.5 Dangers of control processes
Critical thinking 10.2: Quis custodiet ipsos custodies?
10.6 Control toolkit
Activities and further study

11 Reporting and Communicating

Case 11.1: Doing a “Ratner”
11.1 Definition of communication and reporting
Critical thinking 11.1: A good day to bury inconvenient
information
11.2 Stages of communicating (Shannon and Weaver)
Case 11.2: Words versus numbers in communication
Case 11.3: The medium is the message

14
 Case 11.4: The communication of CaféDirect
Case 11.5: Best advice – listen up!
11.3 Modifications to Shannon and Weaver’s model
11.4 Communications toolkit
Activities and further study

12 Budgeting
Case 12.1: Bad budgeting at the Beeb
12.1 Definition and concept of budgeting
Case 12.2: Bank’s advice on budgeting
12.2 Non-financial budgets
12.3 Types of financial budget
12.4 The budgeting process
Critical thinking 12.1: The problems of budget guesstimates?
12.5 Management ratios
Critical thinking 12.2: Budget games
Critical thinking 12.3: Disadvantages of budgeting
Case 12.3: How budgeting helps First Luggage
12.6 Budgeting toolkit
Activities and further study

PART 3: Management Functions

13 Introduction to Management Functions
13.1 Line functions
13.2 Enabling functions
13.3 Controlling functions

14 Marketing
Case 14.1: Marketing Red Bull
14.1 Definition of marketing
14.2 Successive views of the marketing function
Critical thinking 14.1: Are “stages” marketing’s own QWERTY
keyboard?
14.3 Markets
Case 14.2: Rockefeller’s predatory pricing
14.4 Market strategy and market positioning
Critical thinking 14.2: What is wrong with the Boston matrix?
14.5 Understanding markets (market research)
14.6 The marketing mix
Case 14.3: Cause-related marketing
Case 14.4: Guerrilla marketing

15
 Case 14.5: Misleading advertisements
Critical thinking 14.3: The charges against marketing
14.7 The sales function
Critical thinking 14.4: Why do textbooks shun sales?
14.8 The marketing plan
Case 14.6: Sleigh Bell’s marketing plan
Activities and further study

15 Operations
Case 15.1: Life is a roller-coaster – managing operations at
Thorpe Park
15.1 Definition of operations and general characteristics
15.2 Types of operations (manufacturing, services and product-
service systems)
Case 15.2: Manufacturing operations at Patak’s Foods
Case 15.3: The development of a product-service system in the
washroom
15.3 Designing operations
15.4 Operations layout
15.5 Managing operations
15.6 Purchasing, distribution and supply chain management
Case 15.4: Beefing up the supply chain
Critical thinking 15.1: What is wrong with just-in-time?
15.7 Quality and the operations function
Critical thinking 15.2: Quality, bureaucracy and mediocrity –
criticisms of the quality movement
15.8 Measuring the effectiveness of operations
Activities and further study

16 Human Resource Management

Case 16.1: The HR function at Media24 16.1 Definition and
history of human resource management
Case 16.2: The human resource function at Enterprise Rent a Car
16.2 Components of the human resource function
Critical thinking 16.1: Why appraisal systems often fail
Case 16.3: Reckitt Benckiser’s remuneration
Critical thinking 16.2: Why are so many performance-related pay
schemes ineffective?
16.3 The psychological contract
Critical thinking 16.3: The bizarre nature of the psychological
contract

16
 Case 16.4: Revenge for reneging on the psychological contract
16.4 Employee engagement
Critical thinking 16.4: Doubts about employee engagement
16.5 The legal background to human resource management
Case 16.5: Lloyds TSB earns disability benefits
16.6 Human resource strategy and manpower planning
16.7 The welfare role of human resource management
Activities and further study

17 Finance and Accounting

Case 17.1: The job of financial accounting
17.1 Managing the organisation’s money
17.2 Raising money
Case 17.2: 3i – the doyen venture capitalist
17.3 Investing an organisation’s money
17.4 Financial reporting
Case 17.3: Tesco profit and loss account
Case 17.4: Tesco balance sheet
17.5 Management accounting
Case 17.5: Tesco cash-flow statement
Critical thinking 17.1: Are financial statements accurate? Watch
out for restatements and lies
Activities and further study

18 Information Management
Case 18.1: Cloud computing and small fish
18.1 Historical context of IT
Critical thinking 18.1: Are we collecting too much information?
18.2 Use of IT systems
Case 18.2: Computer battles
Critical thinking 18.2: Why IT systems fail
18.3 Structure of the IT function in an organisation
Case 18.3: Keeping the lights on at Reuters
Critical thinking 18.3: Computer clouds’ lead linings
18.4 E-commerce
18.5 B2C (Business to Consumer) e-commerce
Critical thinking 18.4: E-fiascos and dotcom bubbles
Case 18.4: Boo.com disaster – how not to e-tail
18.6 B2B (Business to Business) e-commerce
Case 18.5: B2B integration
18.7 Knowledge management

17
 18.8 What is knowledge?
18.9 Managing and using knowledge in organisations
Critical thinking 18.5: Is KM business salvation or “the emperor’s
new clothes”?
Activities and further study

PART 4: Personal Perspectives on Management

19 Social Responsibility and Business Ethics
Case 19.1: Harvard MBA’s renounce greed
19.1 Definitions concepts of social responsibility and ethics
Case 19.2: The Co-op is the UK’s ethical favourite
19.2 Philosophical bases of ethics and social responsibility
Critical thinking 19.1: What is wrong with “might is right”?
Critical thinking 19.2: What is wrong with utilitarianism?
Critical thinking 19.3: What is wrong with deontology?
Critical thinking 19.4: What is wrong with rights?
Critical thinking 19.5: What is wrong with justice?
19.3 Business ethics for individual managers and professional
workers
Case 19.3: Olympic ideals, bribery and whaling
Case 19.4: A silly duchess solicits a bribe
Case 19.5: Conflicts of interest – Merrill Lynched?
Case 19.6: Abuse of power – the Challenger space shuttle disaster
Critical thinking 19.6: “Blowing the whistle”
19.4 Ethics and social responsibility for organisations
Case 19.7: Mercenary Madoff
Case 19.8: A gadget to die for
19.5 Business ethics for citizens and consumers
19.6 Rights of managers and professional workers
19.7 Ethics toolkit
Case 19.9: Heinous Enron
Activities and further study

20 Management Fads, Gurus and Research

Case 20.1: Business process re-engineering: a recent management
fad
20.1 Fads and crazes
Case 20.2: Tulipomania – a classic fad
20.2 Management gurus
Case 20.3: Doctor Fox’s Seductive Lectures
Critical thinking 20.1: What is wrong with Drucker?

18
 Critical thinking 20.2: What is wrong with Peters?
Critical thinking 20.3: What is wrong with Porter?
20.3 Witch doctors’ cons
Critical thinking 20.4: Is the Hawthorne effect the real cause of
many improvements?
Case 20.4: Huge errors in management judgements
20.4 Scientific management research
Case 20.5: Client interaction foils accurate evaluation
Case 20.6: Comparing scientific method in management and
pharmacology
20.5 Toolkit for evaluating scientific papers
Activities and further study

References
Index

19
 Preface

Over many years I have taught the fundamentals of management to more

than 12000 students. They have taught me the importance of good
information given in a straightforward way. Unusually for an academic
and researcher, I have been fortunate to experience management at first
hand: junior manager in a knitwear factory in Leicester, director of a
quoted company in London and chairman of a small company in
Manchester. This has taught me the need to focus on what is practical and
relevant. Consultancy work in Europe, Australasia, South Africa and Asia
have also taught me lessons. It has made me aware of the need for a clear
and straightforward text which combines a broad, classic framework with
a deeper treatment of contemporary management topics.

Who is this book for?

This book is focused on three groups of readers.

First are students embarking on a course of business studies and
management at university or college. They face the danger that
individual courses dealing with specific areas give a disjointed
view that lacks perspective. This book aims to provide an
integrating framework that places other specific courses within the
context of management as a whole.
Second are students of other subjects, perhaps engineering, IT or
languages, who are taking one or two courses in management as
subsidiary subjects. Even if they never become managers
themselves they will need to interact with those who do. This book
aims to give an understanding of management that will enable them
to relate effectively with managers.
The third group of readers are those already working in
organisations who have started, or are thinking of starting, a

20
 managerial career. This book is designed to provide them with an
authoritative, high-quality text which will help guide their
decisions. This group also includes people who are about to
embark on an in-company course or, perhaps, an MBA after many
years away from education. This book aims to be pre-course
reading that gives a head start.

Explicit knowledge, tacit knowledge and critical thinking

Knowledge can be divided into two types – explicit and tacit (this is
explained further in Chapter 18). The much greater part of this book is
devoted to the explicit knowledge about management that is formally set
out in texts and academic writings. It contains many references to both
classical writings and up-to-date papers. Each chapter ends with a short,
annotated list of recommended readings so that readers can explore this
explicit knowledge in more depth. Inevitably, a book presents information
in a linear form. But, management knowledge is far from linear and parts
of the same topic are often best placed in different places. For example,
“strategy” is clearly a part of the planning process but certain aspects of
strategy are better placed within decision-making and marketing. A unique
system of signposting cross-references has been developed to help readers
navigate their way through the multidimensional nature of the explicit
knowledge about management.
Tacit knowledge is the informal, less codified information that is held
in “managers’ heads”. Many texts ignore tacit information. But readers
find tacit knowledge very engaging. It also provides a background that
makes it easier to understand and apply explicit knowledge. I have made a
conscious effort to provide tacit knowledge of management by including
many cases and examples which, appropriately, are written in a less
formal, more accessible style. Each chapter contains an opening case study
to help readers recognise instantly what sort of information the chapter is
going to cover. Development of critical thinking is a major concern of all
education and development. The critical thinking boxes included
throughout the chapters are a distinctive feature of this book which aims to
develop these skills. Hopefully, they are thought-provoking – they are
often disputatious and divergent. If readers are prompted to criticise my
critical thinking . . . wow! Job done!

The book’s structure

There are significant differences from the first edition in terms of both the

21
content and pedagogy: all sections of the book have been updated and
many recent references have been included, while numerous cases and
critical thinking boxes have been added throughout. The structure of the
book has also been reinforced to reflect a coherent and logical picture of
management.
It was tempting to structure the book by starting with chapters on
popular topics (e.g. strategy, leadership and organisational change), and
work down to less fashionable areas such as control, and even omitting
important but less conducive topics such as budgeting. That assembly is
flawed. It is incomplete. It fails to convey what is a clear and coherent
structure for the fundamentals of management. Further, this scrapbook
approach would ignore a basic psychological principle: material within a
meaningful framework is easier to remember. The framework of this book
is formed by four giant girders: definition, processes, functions and
personal perspective.

Definition of management

The starting point for a book on fundamentals of management is obvious –

a definition of management with some idea of the types of managers
(level, entrepreneurs, line managers, etc.) and the skills and characteristics
managers need. But, managers do not exist in a vacuum. So, it is important
to understand the contexts in which managers work (types of organisation
plus the organisational, national and international cultures). Rightly or
wrongly, the historical legacy, perhaps two centuries old, exerts an
indelible influence on modern management. Further, history teaches an
eternal lesson: social, economic, technical and intellectual zeitgeists shape
the management methods of their era – but there is often a time lag. A
knowledge of history may help managers identify trends that are shaping,
and will shape future management practices. At a banal level a survey of
the history of management also provides an excellent way to introduce key
ideas such as “scientific management” or “contingency theory”.
There have been three major changes to Part 1 which aims to answer
the question “What is Management?”.
Management career pathways have been integrated into the first
chapter, demonstrating the diversity of management.
Sections on culture, both organisational and national, have been
expanded significantly and now have their own chapter devoted to
the organisational context of management (Chapter 2).
Globalisation is now integrated into this chapter as an integral
aspect of the context of modern management.

22
 Fordism is included

Management Processes

All managers use processes to transform resources into more valuable

outputs. The large number of management processes can be bewildering.
So, our framework requires a subframe of lintels. Very early in my
teaching, I found that Fayol’s subframe (planning, organising, staffing,
etc.) is much better than most. It is widely known. The acronym
(POSDCRB) is easy to remember. Above all else, it is very, very widely
used and understood by practising managers throughout the world. Sure, it
is an old subframe but it has proved its strength and it fully supports up-to-
date topics. For example, strategy fits perfectly within Fayol’s process of
planning and it benefits from being placed in this context: it can be seen as
an important part of a larger chain of activities that includes, say,
organisational visions and management by objectives (MBO). Fayol’s
(updated) subframe gives a very comprehensive coverage of the processes
that all managers must perform. In contrast, for example, some
organisational behaviour frameworks give the impression that managers
need pay little attention to, say, controlling or budgeting.
The new edition has changed to give greater emphasis to:
organisational change, which now has its own chapter
leadership, which also has its own chapter
strategy-especially PESTLE
teamworking

Management Functions

Most organisations have functions that involve specialist cadres which

deploy specialist knowledge and expertise. Most managers work within a
specific function. But it is impossible for them to be successful without
some awareness of others. There are at least 12 functions. It is impossible
to describe all of them in a book of this kind. A good solution is to list all
functions and place them within another substructure (line, facilitating and
controlling). Substantive chapters then describe each of the “Big Five”
functions: marketing, operations, human resources management (HRM),
finance and the information function (IT). The distinction between
management processes and management functions is clearly understood by
practising managers but it can cause confusion for students. Sometimes,
for example, staffing is wrongly equated with HRM while budgeting is
wrongly equated with finance. In essence, processes are activities

23
performed by almost all managers at an individual level. Functions are
specialist activities performed by groups or organisations (the
management). The structure of this book makes this distinction clear and
explicit.
The structure of Part 3 has changed significantly. It now starts with a
short introduction which puts management functions into context and then
deals with the five main management functions. The major change has
been to devote a substantive chapter on the knowledge function which
covers the IT(updated), e-commerce and knowledge management. The
section describing knowledge management has been expanded
significantly and moved to this part. Other important additions involve:
marketing (marketing orientations, market planning and sales); operations
(supply chain management, business process re-engineering) and HRM
(employee engagement, the psychological contract).

Personal Perspective on Management

Management processes and functions are the bread-and-butter of the

fundamentals of management. But important issues are personally relevant
to individual managers themselves. Some of these personal perspectives
are covered in other chapters. For example, Chapter 1 has a section
relevant to personal careers and Chapter 7 has a section on training and
development which is relevant to personal improvement. Further, most
chapters end with toolkits, development activities and recommended
readings which an individual can use to extend their personal
competencies. However, two major personal issues need chapters of their
own: social and ethical responsibility plus scientific attitudes. These topics
may not be a part of introductory courses on management but they are an
essential background. It is very useful to be able to point students to a
readily available source. The subjects of both chapters are inherently
interesting. Some students will read them spontaneously.
Many management texts scatter aspects of social responsibility and
ethics among several chapters. This demonstrates that ethics apply to most
areas of management but the approach is unsatisfactory. It makes it
difficult for students to form an integrated and coherent view. A separate
chapter, on the other hand, allows social responsibility and ethics to be
viewed as a whole. Many texts only cover the organisational perspective of
ethics. However, practising managers also need to be ethical in their own
job as well as ethical and socially responsible as consumers and members
of society.
Chapter 20 “Management Fads, Gurus, and Research” is another

24
distinctive feature and it was very enjoyable to write! It aims to encourage
a scientific attitude to the study of management. There is a lot of bad
management advice and research. Few texts give help in separating the
wheat form the chaff. A prime responsibility of educationalists is to
develop critical and evaluative abilities. I hope the final chapter enables
readers to adopt a scientific approach so that they can recognise
management fads, evaluate management research and differentiate
between good and bad advice.
There have been major changes to Part 4. The material illustrating HR
issues (diversity and bullying) has been moved to the website. This
reluctant change liberated space that could be devoted to other topics such
as organisational change, leadership and knowledge management. The
material illustrating commercial issues has been shortened and moved to
other chapters (“e-commerce” to information function and “globalisation”
to management contexts).

Pedagogical Features

A good text should always lead readers to extend their knowledge and
abilities. The role of the critical thinking boxes in developing the ability to
evaluate research and ideas has already been noted. Each chapter has up to
five features to encourage students to broaden their understanding.
Toolkits highlight the practical implications of the preceding
chapter so that readers can apply the knowledge they have gained.
Toolkits also have a half-hidden agenda: to provide models so that
students will, themselves, learn to draw practical implications from
academic writings.
The main role of Essay plans is self-explanatory – to develop the
ability to structure material to serve a given (academic) purpose.
The website provides model answers for essay plans suggested for
early chapters. Later chapters do not. They can be set as the title for
assignments. Only a masochistic tutor who enjoys marking scores
of near identical essays would set a title where a model answer is
available!
Web activities serve a number of pedagogical purposes. Early Web
activities direct readers to structured exercises which are contained
in the website that accompanies this book. Later activities generally
aim to encourage students to search for additional information and
specific examples of ideas or management practices.
Experiential activities aim to give readers a personal, subtle and
nuanced appreciation of the softer, subjective facets of

25
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And his hair hangs down upon his shoulders like a mane. And his
ragged shirt exposes his chest. And his fingers are all covered with
dried blood. Tell me, why has he returned like this?”
“He is about to communicate the story of his wanderings,” said the
old man, pointing to the materials for writing that were spread upon
the table of the little room. “He is about to make them into a treatise;
when the clocks tell the hour of midnight he will commence author.
Therefore does it not behove us to be patient? When his task is
accomplished, I doubt not that we shall be privileged to learn all that
has befallen him.”
“Ah, yes, I remember,” said the man from the street. “I always
suspected that one day he might set up on his own account as an
author. He has a lot of out-of-the-way knowledge. He looks in a
dreadful state to-night, and I shouldn’t wonder if he didn’t write the
better for it. He’s evidently been out and seen a bit of life; and you’ve
got to see a bit of life to be an author. At least, Murtle says so; and
Murtle ought to know.”
“Yes, yes,” said the old man softly. “We shall doubtless be informed
of all that has befallen him when he comes to take the pen in his
right hand.”
The man from the street bade good-night to the old man, and
begged to be allowed to return the next evening to the threshold of
the little room, that he might have speech with him who slept.
 XLVI
The returned wayfarer, ragged, bare-footed, and dishevelled,
continued in his profound sleep by the side of the fire. Not a sound
escaped him, not once did he change his posture; and as the hour of
midnight approached, the old man, his father, began to have a fear
that he would not waken again. But at the first stroke of the clocks,
as they told the midnight hour, the wanderer opened his eyes to the
full, and, rising immediately from his chair, without pain, and without
weariness, sat down exactly as he was before the materials for
writing that were spread upon the table, and commenced author.
At first, as he dipped the pen in the ink, and it sought the virgin
sheets of white paper, his face was calm and untroubled, and about
his lips was a happy smile of peace. Lightly, easily, deftly at first, his
right hand, that was now so strong, ran across the paper, without a
moment of hesitation, without a single pause, or any kind of
uncertainty.
Page upon page was traversed by his strong right hand. Not once
did it falter, no fault did it commit; and neither blot, nor erasure, nor
substitution of one word for another, defiled the fair copy that grew,
minute by minute, under the slender, blood-stained fingers. Hour
after hour passed; and the aged man, his father, sat by the side of
the fire with his dim and incredulous eyes fixed upon him who wrote.
In them was a kind of entrancement.
The beams of the morning stole through the top of the shutters of the
little room, but the author did not look up an instant from his labours,
and not once did he change the attitude in which he wrote. Neither
did he ask to have the shutters thrown back, and the bright lamp
removed, even when it was twelve o’clock in the day. From time to
time the old man plied the hearth with fuel, and also he procured a
second lamp, newly replenished with oil.
In the afternoon the old man went forth of the little room, and making
no sound, so that his movements might not be regarded, he
penetrated, candle in hand, to a deep cellar below the shop.
In a corner of this chill vault, all covered with cobwebs and grime,
was a bottle of a great and aged wine. This the old man removed
from the place it had occupied full many years, and bore it, with a
care as nice as a woman bears a sleeping infant, up the dark stairs
to the little room.
The old man placed the wine near to him who wrote; but, as though
unconscious of the action, the returned wayfarer pursued his
labours.
The old man, his father, then returned to his place beside the bright
hearth. The hours passed. All that day the shutters were not taken
down from the shop, which was shrouded in complete darkness in
the broad light; while in the room behind it a lamp was burning
continually, even when the sun was high at noon.
As page upon page was traversed by the strong right hand of him
who wrote, and they began to form a delicately-written heap on the
table before him, the mood of the author, which at first was so
serene and of such a calm assurance, began to change. In those
large and bright eyes, whose lustre seemed to vie with that of the
ever-burning lamp, the inward fire, the controlled passion, the noble
self-possession, began, towards afternoon, to yield to the hue of
terror. The large and bright eyes began to roll in a strange kind of
frenzy. Great beads of perspiration came upon the forehead of the
author; they rolled in a stream down his cheeks.
Not once, however, did he pause in those labours which added
steadily to the pile of his writings. Although the author appeared to
be suffering a more than mortal agony, and that even as he wrote he
sought the merciful respite of death, he never once faltered, nor
looked up, nor refrained an instant from his task.
Towards the hour of eight in the evening, the listening ears of the
aged man, his father, heard a loud tapping upon the shutters of the
shop. He rose at once from his place beside the hearth and went
forth of the little room, and opened very softly, yet with a kind of
despair as he did so, the outer door of the shop.
“Who is he who beats upon the ears of us in our little room?” he
asked of him who stood out upon the threshold of the night.
“Has he awakened?” asked the anxious visitor. “I have been fearing
all day lest he should not wake any more.”
“He is awake and he is writing his treatise,” said the old man
devoutly.
“I must see him,” said the man from the street. “You must let me see
him. I will not go beyond the shop. And I will not disturb him as I walk
across it.”
“He is writing his treatise,” said the old man in a tone that would
seem to deny him.
“Oh!” cried the man from the street piteously, “I must see him, if only
for a moment, now that he is awake.”
And so great were the entreaties of the man from the street, that the
old man, enjoining many earnest restrictions upon him, led him at
last with infinite caution through the dark shop, to look upon the face
of him who wrote.
However, no sooner had the man from the street looked upon the
face of him he had craved to see than he uttered a suppressed cry of
dismay and terror. For the face of the returned wayfarer seemed to
be convulsed with a mortal agony.
Creeping away with the silence in which he had come to the
threshold, without revealing his presence to the returned wayfarer, or
causing him once to refrain from his labours, the man from the street
returned in a kind of despair to that outer element of darkness out of
which he had emerged.
“Oh,” he muttered, as the scalding tears sprang out of his eyes as he
traversed the inhospitable pavements of the streets; “I wish now that
I had not seen him. It is just as I thought it would be.”
Yet the next evening at the same hour the man from the street
tapped upon the shutter again; and again his summons was
answered by the old man within.
“How is he now?” asked the visitor breathlessly. “I hope there is no
change for the worse.”
“You may enter and look upon him,” said the old man.
“I don’t think I want to do that,” said the visitor with fear in his eyes. “I
think I would rather not do so.”
“Perhaps,” said the old man, “you may find a change for the better.”
“No, I don’t think I will come in,” said the man with weak
tremulousness; but this he seemed suddenly to discard in a kind of
disgust, and he followed the old man through the darkness of the
shop.
As he came to stand again upon the threshold of the little room he
saw that the returned wayfarer had scarcely changed his posture
from the previous evening, and was writing still. The mass of papers
before him, covered in a fine and delicate writing, were an ever-
increasing pile. Yet the man from the street hardly dared to look at
the face of the writer. At last, however, he summoned the courage to
do so, and in the act of beholding it almost revealed his presence by
a cry of surprise. For the face was no longer transfigured with terror:
it was as calm, serene, and peaceful as that of Nature upon an
evening of summer.
Again the man from the street returned to his element; and this time
in lieu of his previous despair was a sort of bewildered gladness. The
face he had looked upon that evening was one of such wisdom and
beauty, that even eyes such as his own could not misread its
meaning. “Oh, how beautiful he is! How beautiful he is!” he
exclaimed as he walked along.
The next evening the visitor returned once more and knocked upon
the shutter; again he was received by the old man who led him
within. The returned wayfarer still sat at the table writing his treatise.
Again he appeared scarcely to have changed his posture. The pile of
writing had grown greater and greater. In mute bewilderment the
man from the street gazed upon him. The worn and haggard
countenance of him who wrote was convulsed with tears. Yet
although they dripped upon the white paper, even as the pen
traversed it, he refrained not an instant from his task.
As the unhappy man from the street again sought the outer
darkness, he said with a sinking heart: “When he stops writing I am
sure he will die!”
On the next evening he presented himself at the shutter for the
fourth time.
“How is he now?” he cried to the old man. “Does he still live?”
“You may enter,” said the old man; and in the darkness the man from
the street could not observe the secret smile that was about his lips.
Ever writing as before, the returned wayfarer had now a face that
was radiant with joy. As he continued to fill one page upon another,
his lips began to move in a kind of low crooning chant. When the
watcher from the threshold caught the first sounds of his voice, he
remembered with one of those pangs with which reason confronts
that which lies beyond it, the day upon which he and his boon
companions had taken him upon the sea in a boat.
“I don’t know how it will end, I don’t know how it will end!” cried the
man as he entered the streets. His emotion was wrought so highly
that he walked the streets until dawn.
Yet again on the evening of the fifth day he returned, and with secret,
fearful steps he came to the threshold of the little room. He who sat
there was writing still. His cheeks had now sunk into his jaws; his
eyes that formerly were so large and bright lacked lustre; the slender
fingers were moving painfully; the gaunt face had almost the
composure of death.
The watcher crept forth again to the streets, and walked them in a
kind of madness. “I begin to wish he would die,” he said as he took
his way. “It is dreadful, it is dreadful! Yes, I wish he would die.”
Yet on the evening of the sixth day the man came again and
knocked upon the shutter.
“I hope he is dead,” he said bitterly as the old man confronted him. “It
is dreadful, it is dreadful!”
“He sleeps now,” said the old man simply. “Is it not wonderful that the
strength should have been given to him to complete his task? But he
now sleeps.”
They stole together to the threshold, where this superhuman
labourer, bare-footed and unkempt, and in his rags lay fast asleep.
His face was buried amid the great bulk of his writings.
“Oh,” said the man from the street with a harsh sob; “he is dead at
last.”
“Oh, no,” said the old man, “he breathes softly.”
“Can it be possible?” said the other. “Can he have done all this and
yet remained alive? I must see for myself before I can believe it.”
The man from the street made as if he would cross the threshold of
the little room.
“Beware,” said the old man almost sternly. “Did you not promise that
you would not go beyond this?”
“Yes, I did,” said the other mournfully, “but I am sure he is dead.”
“Return to-morrow, my friend, at the same hour,” said the old man,
“and be of good hope. He ate and drank before he slept and he
promised to awaken.”
The next day the man came back again to the threshold of the little
room, but the writer still slept with his face buried within his labours.
“He will never awaken, he will never awaken!” said the watcher.
“Be of good faith,” said the old man softly. “Return to-morrow again.”
The man did as he was bidden, but he who had laboured was still
asleep.
“Why do you deceive me?” cried the man from the street, almost
beside himself with his passion; “you know he will never wake again.
And you dare not tell me the truth. I will enter and see for myself.”
The old man pushed him back with his feeble strength as he made to
cross the threshold. His face had a tragic consternation too dreadful
to behold.
“If you cross the threshold,” he said, “while he still sleeps he will
never, never awaken.”
These words and the countenance of the old man convinced the
man from the street that such was the truth.
“I will return to-morrow and see if he sleeps still,” said the man,
returning to the street.
“This passes all understanding,” he muttered constantly as he took
his way.
 XLVII
On the following evening, when the man knocked again upon the
shutter, and the door of the shop was opened by the old man, he
was informed joyfully that the sleeper had awakened. And further, he
was told that he had bathed, and had partaken of food, and that now
in the little room he sat beside the hearth in the full enjoyment of his
mind.
“Do you remain here while I ask him if you may approach the
threshold of his little room,” said the old man in a glad voice.
The man from the street waited in joyfulness. In spite of his
incredulity he seemed to know that the darkness of the night had
passed.
“He desires to see you,” said the old man as he returned.
The man from the street, scarcely daring to breathe, followed the old
man to the threshold of the inner room. Seated beside the hearth,
which was ever brightly burning, was the frail figure of his friend, with
the great pile of his writings clasped upon his knees. The lustre was
extinguished from his worn and beautiful face; his eyes were no
longer large and bright, his cheeks were sunken; yet all about him
was a high and calm serenity, an inexpressible peace.
“Faithful one,” said a voice whose strange quality was hardly more
than a reminiscence of that which had once been familiar to the ears
of the man from the street, “now that my task is done I will reward
your constancy. You shall cross the threshold of my little room. Will
you not embrace me, honest friend?”
Speaking these words, the returned wayfarer stretched out his hands
to his visitor. Thereupon the man from the street crossed the
threshold of the little room and flung his arms about the form of him
he had not hoped to clasp again.
 XLVIII
The two friends sat long hours together, conversing of many things.
William Jordan, now that his task was accomplished, had never
seemed so accessible, so human, so near in sympathy and
perception to those things that lay immediately about him. Jimmy
Dodson, entranced by the new power and richness of his friend’s
discourse, gave expression again and again to the delight that he
felt.
“Luney,” he said, calling him again by that name with which he had
always addressed him, “you have always been beyond me, but you
have never seemed quite so far beyond me as you do now. Your
actions prove you to be out of your mind, but the odd thing is that
never in all the years I have known you, have you talked to me as
you have talked to-night. You talk to me now, old boy, just as I should
expect some of those wise old Greek Johnnies to talk to their pals.
And yet you give yourself no airs of saying anything out of the
common; and the way you listen to what I say to you and the way
you draw me out, gives me the kind of feeling that I myself am a sort
of chap like old What’s-his-name. Words have never come to me so
easily as they have to-night; and as for my mind, I am sure it has
never been half so bright. You seem to make me feel, old boy, that
every word you use has a kind of inner meaning; and I understand
enough of the meaning inside to know that there is still another
meaning inside of that. I don’t know where you have been, or what
you have done, but I am sure the change that has taken place in you
is very wonderful.”
“The Giver of all good has at last given the light to your eyes and
mine,” said William Jordan. “And speech to our lips, and hearing to
our ears.”
“And the most wonderful thing about you, old boy,” said his friend, “is
that with all your strangeness I know what you mean. You sit there
talking for all the world as if nothing had happened to you. And yet if
you don’t mind my saying it, a week ago you were up so high that I
thought you could never come down again.”
“Perhaps it was,” said William Jordan, “that I was then besieged by
strange spirits. Perhaps it was, Jimmy, that my little treatise could not
have got itself written without their aid.”
“And now you have written it, old boy, or now, as you put it, it has got
itself written, what do you intend to do with it?” asked Jimmy Dodson
eagerly.
“It is my intention to give it to the world,” said William Jordan.
The calm assurance with which the author announced this intention
appeared to startle his friend.
“Yes—of course,” said Jimmy Dodson nervously; “yes—of course.”
A sequel so natural to the strange labours of which he had been the
witness, had, somewhat curiously, never shaped itself in his mind.
“Yes—of course,” he reiterated, “of course you will give it to the
world. That is to say, you will have it published by somebody. Have
you thought which firm you will try first?”
“It is my intention,” said William Jordan, “to place it in the good hands
of our friends.”
“Indeed,” said Dodson; and then he added nervously, “Yes, I
suppose so. What is it all about?”
“You may speak of it as a kind of treatise on human life,” said the
author.
“A treatise,” said his friend. “I hope, old boy, it is not too scientific and
not too long.”
“In some respects it is ‘scientific,’ I am afraid,” said the author. “You
see, it was impossible to keep out ‘science’ altogether.”
“Oh, then,” said his friend with an air of relief, “the treatise as you call
it is not all pure science. I hope, old boy,” he added anxiously, “you
have had the forethought to cast it into the form of a novel.”
“Yes,” said the author, “you might almost say it is a kind of novel—
and yet it is a kind of poem too.”
“Ah,” said his friend hopefully, “that is better. A treatise in the form of
a novel may be all right, although much depends upon the length.
And a novel in the form of a prose poem; that may be all right too,
that is if it is not lacking in dramatic interest. I have heard Octavius
lay it down as a fixed rule that in a prose poem you must have
dramatic interest.”
“I think I may promise,” said the author, with a simplicity that passed
beyond the understanding of his friend, “that it is not lacking in
dramatic interest.”
“Good!” said Jimmy Dodson. “Things are shaping better than could
have been expected. Yet you know, old boy—if I must tell the truth—I
never quite thought you had it about you to write a really good novel.
But you never know, old boy, do you? Some of the smartest writing
chaps of the day don’t at all look the part. Yet I don’t quite know, old
boy—you won’t mind my saying it—whether you have had quite
enough experience of life. I’ve heard Murtle say that a chap wants
enormous experience of life to write a really good novel. I’ve heard
him say to Octavius that he couldn’t possibly have done what he has
unless he had dined out every night in good society for twenty years.
But the novel may be a romance. Of course that would make a
difference. A fellow doesn’t have to know so much, Octavius says, to
write a romance. Yet don’t forget, old boy, that other things being all
right, grammar, style, dramatic interest and so on, much will depend
upon the length. Whatever else it may be I hope it will not be more
than eighty thousand words.”
“I am afraid,” said the author, “the question of ‘length’ has not
occurred to me. But now you speak of it I should not say the length is
great.”
“Good,” said Jimmy Dodson. “Well, I must leave you now, old boy,”
he added, “to catch my train to Peckham. I can’t tell you what a relief
it has been to find you quite well again. But I will come back to-
morrow evening, and I will look at this novel of yours, and we will talk
over the question of offering it to the firm, although if you do that, old
boy, you will be obliged, you know, to adopt what they call a
pseudonym.”
“I intend that the poem shall be published anonymously,” said the
author.
“Poem!” said Jimmy Dodson. “Why, I understood you to say just now
that it was a kind of novel. A poem, you know, would make a
difference.”
“No,” said the author, “I think it would be more accurate to define it
as a poem. It is cast in a kind of hexameter which yet is hardly a
hexameter at all—at least it is not the metre of Homer and Virgil. You
see, Jimmy, this noble and beautiful English speech which you and I
use, differs greatly from those other beautiful tongues that the
ancient authors worked in. At first I had thought to write this little
treatise upon human life in the language of the Iliad, the language of
heroic wisdom; but when I came to reflect that this noble modern
speech of ours is familiar to more than a hundred million persons, I
yielded my desire. Hence you will understand, Jimmy, that to modern
eyes and ears the metre may at first appear strange.”
“The deuce!” said Jimmy Dodson with a lively consternation. “A
poem! That will make a difference. You see, Octavius declares that it
is impossible for poetry to pay now-a-days—his pays, of course, but
then he sticks to translations of Homer and the classics—and for
years the firm has given up the publication of original verse. But it is
too late, old boy, to go into it to-night. I will look at your novel—poem
—better call it novel in any case—to-morrow evening, and then I
may be able to give you some advice about it.”
 XLIX
When at last Jimmy Dodson had gone to catch his train to Peckham,
William Jordan, who still held the large pile of manuscript upon his
knees, proffered it to his father, saying: “My father, I would have you
read to me this little treatise upon human life.”
The old man, who had not as yet looked upon the labours of his son,
received the mass of papers from his hands; and in his peering, half-
blind eyes was an extraordinary concentration. His feeble frame
possessed by tremors, he sat down at the opposite side of the
hearth to peruse that upon which he hardly dared to gaze.
In the face of William Jordan, although there was a remarkable
composure and self-security, there was also an expectation
amounting almost to anguish, and in the great eyes, which no longer
had lustre, there was the intentness that is seen in the eyes of the
blind.
As soon as the old man began to read in his weak quavering voice,
his face, which was so bloodless and ascetic, broke out into a
suffusion of stern and almost uncontrollable joy. The poet, who could
not discern this remarkable expression, bent his head to listen; and
as the roll and cadence of the lines he had wrought came upon his
ears he drew in his breath sharply with half a sob and half a sigh.
All through the night the aged man, his father, read aloud the poem
in his weak quavering voice. As he did so, not he only, but the author
of it sat with the inanimation of statues. They seemed neither to
breathe nor to move; yet sometimes the tears would flow from the
eyes of both. At other times every kind of emotion would pass across
their faces: terror, joy, pity, laughter, bewilderment, protest,
acceptance.
Hour after hour sped, and the passion engendered by the reading
seemed to mount in the veins of each. At last towards the afternoon
the old man’s voice failed him, and through sheer physical weakness
he could read no more.
“Pray continue, O Achilles,” said the old man. “I am now old, and
Nature fails me.”
“Nay, my father,” said the poet, “Nature has failed me also. I would
have you repose a little, and then I would have you continue in your
task.”
In obedience to the poet’s request, the old man laid his reading aside
for a while, yet a few hours hence he resumed. And thus it befell that
when Jimmy Dodson knocked upon the shutters of the shop at eight
o’clock, no heed was paid to his summons. He knocked again and
again; his blows were so loud that they echoed all about the street;
yet although he could discern a thread of light stealing from the room
behind the shop his demand met with no answer.
He tried the door of the shop, but it was secure. However, his
imperious need armed him with resources; for climbing up by means
of a niche in the shutters, he peered through an aperture at the top.
He owed it to an infinite good fortune that the door of the little room
was open wide; and he who looked was able to observe its two
occupants sitting either side of the hearth. The white-haired old man
with a great pile of papers upon his knees was reading aloud to his
son; and as revealed by the shadows of the lamp the faces of both
were suffused by a most singular emotion.
The evening following at the same hour Dodson returned again to
the shop; yet again to his profound astonishment admittance was
denied to him. Climbing up for the second time to peer over the top
of the shutters he found the cause of his exclusion to be the same.
On the third evening, however, when he knocked upon the shutters
he was admitted by the old man.
When Jimmy Dodson crossed the threshold of the little room, William
Jordan, who still sat by the side of the fire with the great pile of his
writings once more upon his knees, lifted his dull eyes towards his
friend, and said with his lips yielding in a smile of exquisite mobility,
“Embrace me, my dear friend, embrace me!”
In the gestures of William Jordan was a calm authority that his friend
did not seek to withstand. With a somewhat disconcerted
bewilderment he deferred to the poet.
“Luney, old boy,” he said nervously, “I have been making a few
inquiries about the publication of poetry. Octavius says there is not a
publisher in London who would touch your—your poem, unless it
happened to be something quite out of the way.”
The faces of father and son seemed to embody a single yet occult
meaning, yet the eyes of the poet now held no lustre.
“Fear not, good friend,” said William Jordan in his soft, clear speech,
yet in a tone of such curious sombre irony as Jimmy Dodson had
never heard upon his lips before. “I do not think you need fear to
carry my little treatise on human life to the house of Crumpett and
Hawker at No. 24 Trafalgar Square.”
The poet laughed a gentle laughter which caused his friend to look at
him in bewilderment.
“Luney, old boy,” he said, “what has happened to you lately? I always
used to say, you know, that no power on earth would cause you to
laugh. You always used to be so serious.”
“I laugh now, Jimmy, because I am so happy,” said the poet.
“And what has made you so happy, old boy?” said his friend.
“The knowledge, Jimmy, that I am a prince of the blood.”
Jimmy Dodson gave a gasp of bewilderment. In mute astonishment
he gazed at him who made this inordinate statement; who sat so
grave and so composed, and whose singularly clear voice uttered
the words with a sincerity which made them seem rational. “I can’t
understand him, I can’t understand him!” muttered Jimmy Dodson in
dismay. “His words and his acts are totally wrong, yet I never saw a
man who seemed so marvellously right.”
Jimmy Dodson turned to the father of the poet in an incredulous
aside.
“What does he mean?” he said. “He says he is happy because he is
a prince of the blood.”
“Would he be of that estate if he were not happy?” said the old man,
with a quietude that increased Jimmy Dodson’s dismay.
“Ye-es, I suppose not,” said Jimmy Dodson in a kind of despair. He
looked from the father to the son, from the son to the father, yet in
vain he sought to read the riddle of their words.
The white-haired man laid his hand on the great pile of writings
which the poet held upon his knees.
“You would not doubt,” said the old man in a tone of mild
expostulation, “that the creator of this was of the blood royal?”
Jimmy Dodson did not know how to dissemble his surprise. Yet even
as he stood confronting the silent, but almost stern interrogations of
the father and the son, he knew that an answer was necessary; and
further it was borne in upon him what the nature of that answer must
be.
“Oh no,” said the young man, and with an assumption of
carelessness that sat upon him ungracefully, “I should not doubt it for
a moment—of course not, not for a moment, because—well,
because, you see, I happen to know the author. But some chaps—
some chaps who don’t happen to know the author might doubt it
unless they had the proof.”
“Here, O friend, is the proof of the infinite power of my right hand,”
said the poet, caressing almost proudly with his frail fingers that
which he had wrought. “You yourself shall examine it; and then as I
know you to be worthy of trust you shall carry it to the house of
Crumpett and Hawker; and you shall desire them to print it, but of
course, as I say, you will not divulge the name of the author.”
“Yes, yes, old boy,” said Jimmy Dodson faintly, “of course I will not
divulge the name of the author. But suppose Crumpett and Hawker
—suppose, old boy, Crumpett and Hawker take it into their heads—
take it into their fat heads—you never know what publishers will do,
old boy, do you?—suppose they take it into their fat heads to refuse
your novel, or your poem, or your treatise, or whatever you call it?”
The poet smiled.
“Courage, faithful one,” he said. “You have yet to read this little
treatise, have you not? You have yet to learn the infinite power of
this right hand. And those worthy street-persons, Messrs. Crumpett
and Hawker, will not their eyes glow with a proud joy when they learn
it also?”
Jimmy Dodson did not dare to look upon the rapt gaze of the
sightless poet.
“Ye-es, old boy,” he said miserably, “ye-es, old boy, I suppose they
will.”
“Their eyes will dazzle,” said the poet, “when they behold that which
has been wrought for them and theirs, and for ages unborn. A man-
child has been wrought out of the soul of Man. Once more the cycle
has completed itself. Fact and Speculation, Reason and Imagination
stand together in a more intimate relation. In all humility I say to you,
dear friend, a new dignity has been given to human nature.”
With an ineffable gesture the poet gave the first pages of his poem
into the hands of his friend.
“I—I really, old boy,” stammered Jimmy Dodson, “I—I am nothing like
good enough scholar to have an opinion about it.”
A divine self-security overspread the gaunt features of the poet.
“It is its merit,” he said, “that it is not food only for the proud. It is
wrought in the simple English speech that is the birthright of the
humblest of our countrymen. It is not wrought for him who sits only in
his little room; it is wrought for all those dear and sweet people who
throng the pavements of the great city. Earth, my mother, issued her
mandate; I obeyed it; many days I sojourned in the soft brown
bosom of the mighty one; I communed with her children; I walked
with all the fair things she had wrought from her own bowels; and in
her good pleasure she touched my lips with speech, and she gave
the strength to my right hand. All who are simple and gentle of heart
will take sustenance from this little treatise upon human life. Scan
the first lines, faithful one, you who are simple and gentle of heart,
and then the pressure of your hand shall tell me that my labours are
not vain.”
With indescribable pangs, Jimmy Dodson deferred to the insistence
of the glazed eyes, which, although as lifeless as those of a statue,
seemed to possess the power to hold him in thrall.
Dodson yielded a mournful obedience. In spite of the firm conviction
that his poor friend was now hopelessly overthrown, such an
imperious power seemed to reside in a face that was formerly the
mansion of an exquisite gentleness, that he could not summon the
resolution to resist. But even as the unhappy young man took the
first page in his hand and his eyes met the ordered rows of firm but
delicate writing with which it was covered, he knew how correct was
his prophecy. Hardly a phrase, hardly a word that there was written
addressed his reason in any aspect of coherence or good sense.
There was a long pause, a crucifying silence, in which the poet, his
aged father, and the unhappy reader confronted one another in
passive bewilderment.
The poet seemed to devour the face of his friend with his sightless
eyes.
“W-what shall I tell him?” said Dodson to the old man in the extremity
of anguish.
“Speak only the truth,” said the old man. “Let nought be concealed.
Nature who has vouchsafed to him all things, will preserve the first of
her sons from the stroke of joy.”
“Oh, I can’t speak the truth,” said Dodson. “It would be worse than
hitting him in the face.”
“Can it wound Achilles to receive the affirmation of his quality?” said
the old man, whose voice was like a knell.
Dodson’s veins felt a sharper chill.
“They are both mad,” he muttered, “hopelessly mad!”
The old man took Dodson’s arm in a grip of which none could have
suspected him to be capable; and his pale and wasted features had
now become as imperious as those of the sightless poet.
“You must tell him the truth,” said the white-haired man, whose
countenance was so strangely transfigured, “you must deny nothing
to one who is consumed by the divine hunger for recognition. It is
meet that the creator should be told that his work is good. It is the
crown of his superhuman labours that they should receive the
sanction of those for whom they have wrought.”
“You do not speak to me,” said the poet, in a voice that was rare and
strange. “Is it, friend, that you are no longer——? No, I will not doubt
one whom I love.”
“Speak,” said the old man in the voice of a raven. “The days of
Achilles are now few. Speak, that the faithful may render that which
he needs.”
Dodson felt his own silence to be destroying him.
“I will speak,” he said in terror and despair. “I—I am no scholar, old
boy, as you know. I don’t understand Greek; I know hardly a word of
Latin; but I’ll just say this——” The unhappy Dodson clenched his
hands in desperation. “I’ll just say this—to my mind there is nothing
—there is nothing in the whole of the world——”
The dying poet, whose eyes were sightless, quivered like a stricken
bird.
“Courage, Achilles!” he muttered faintly, pressing his frail hands to
his heart. Then, stretching them forth, he turned his gaunt and grey
face upon his friend. “Give to me those honest hands which I know
to be trembling violently,” he said.
Dodson yielded his hands to those of the blind poet.
“How they tremble, how they tremble!” said the poet. “They have a
rarer eloquence than your lips, my friend. Let them embrace me; let
them embrace me.”
As the unhappy Dodson clasped the frail broken form in his strong
arms, he seemed to learn quite suddenly why those once so lustrous
eyes had the hard glare of stone.