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W. Somerset Maugham

The happy man

It is a dangerous thing to order the lives of others and I have often wondered at the

self-confidence of politicians, reformers and suchlike who are prepared to force , upon

their fellows measures that must alter their manners, habits, and points of view. I have

always hesitated to give advice, for how can one advise another how to act unless one

knows that other as well as one knows oneself? Heaven knows, I know little enough of

myself: I know nothing of others. We can only guess at the thoughts and emotions of our

neighbours. Each one of us is a prisoner in a solitary tower and he communicates with the

other prisoners, who form mankind, by conventional signs that have not quite the same

meaning for them as for himself. And life, unfortunately, is something that you can lead

but once; mistakes are often irreparable, and who am I that I should tell this one and that

how he should lead it? Life is a difficult business and I have found it hard enough to make

my own a complete and rounded thing; I have not been tempted to teach my neighbour

what he should do with his. But there are men who flounder at the journey's start, the way

before them is confused and hazardous, and on occasion, however unwillingly, I have been

forced to point the finger of fate. Sometimes men have said to me, what shall I do with my

life? and I have seen myself for a moment wrapped in the dark cloak of Destiny.

Once I know that I advised well.

I was a young man and I lived in a modest apartment in London near Victoria

Station. Late one afternoon, when I was beginning to think that I had worked enough for

that day, I heard a ring at the bell. I opened the door to a total stranger. He asked me my

name; I told him. He asked if he might come in.


I led him into my sitting-room and begged him to sit down. He seemed a trifle

embarrassed. I offered him a cigarette and he had some difficulty in lighting it without

letting go of his hat. When he had satisfactorily achieved this feat I asked him if I should

not put it on a chair for him. He quickly did this and while doing it dropped his umbrella.

'I hope you don't mind my coming to see you like this,' he said. 'My name is

Stephens and I am a doctor. You're in the medical, I believe?'

'Yes, but I don't practise!

'No, I know. I've just read a book of yours about Spain and I wanted to ask you

about it.'

'It's not a very good book, I'm afraid.'

'The fact remains that you know something about Spain and there's no one else I

know who does. And I thought perhaps you wouldn't mind giving me some information!

'I shall be very glad.'

He was silent for a moment. He reached out for his hat and holding it in one hand

absentmindedly stroked it with the other. I surmised that it gave him confidence.

'I hope you won't think it very odd for a perfect stranger to talk to you like this.' He

gave an apologetic laugh. 'I'm not going to tell you the story of my life.'

When people say this to me I always know that it is precisely what they are going

to do. I do not mind. In fact I rather like it

'I was brought up by two old aunts. I've never been anywhere. I've never done

anything. I've been married for six years. I have no children. I'm a medical officer at the

Camberwell Infirmary. I can't stick it any more.'

There was something very striking in the short, sharp sentences he used. They had a

forcible ring. I had not given him more than a cursory glance, but now I looked at him with

curiosity. He was a little man, thick-set and stout, of thirty perhaps, with a round red face

from which shone small, dark and very bright eyes. His black hair was cropped close to a

bullet-shaped head. He was dressed in a blue suit a good deal the worse for wear. It was

baggy at the knees and the pockets bulged untidily.

'You know what the duties are of a medical officer in an infirmary. One day is

pretty much like another. And that's all I've got to look forward to for the rest of my life.

Do you think it's worth it?'

'It's a means of livelihood,' I answered.

`Yes, I know. The money's pretty good'

'I don't exactly know why you've come to me.'

'Well, I wanted to know whether you thought there would be any chance for an

English doctor in Spain?'

'Why Spain?'

'I don't know, I just have a fancy for it'

'It's not like Carmen, you know.'

'But there's sunshine there, and there's good wine, and there's colour, and there's air

you can breathe. Let me say what I have to say straight out. I heard by accident that there

was no English doctor in Seville. Do you think I could earn a living there? Is it madness to

give up a good safe job for an uncertainty?'

'What does your wife think about it?'

'She's willing.'

'It's a great risk.'

'I know. But if you say take it, I will: if you say stay where you are, I'll stay.'

He was looking at me intently with those bright dark eyes of his and I knew that he

meant what he said. I reflected for a moment.

'Your whole future is concerned: you must decide for yourself. But this I can tell

you: if you don't want money but are content to earn just enough to keep body and soul

together, then go. For you will lead a wonderful life.'

He left me, I thought about him for a day or two, and then forgot. The episode

passed completely from my memory.

Many years later, fifteen at least, I happened to be in Seville and having some

trifling indisposition asked the hotel porter whether there was an English doctor in the

town. He said there was and gave me the address. I took a cab and as I drove up to the

house a little fat man came out of it. He hesitated when he caught sight of me.

'Have you come to see me?' he said. 'I'm the English doctor.'

I explained my errand and he asked me to come in. He lived. in an ordinary Spanish

house, with a patio, and his consulting room which led out of it was littered with papers,

books, medical appliances, and lumber. The sight of it would have startled a squeamish

patient. We did our business and then I asked the doctor what his fee was. He shook his

head and smiled.

'There's no fee.'

'Why on earth not?'

'Don't you remember me? Why, I'm here because of something you said to me. You

changed my whole life for me. I'm Stephens.'

I had not the least notion what he was talking about. He reminded me of our

interview, he repeated to me what we had said, and gradually, out of the night, a dim

recollection of the incident came back to me.

'I was wondering if I'd ever see you again,' he said, 'I was wondering if ever I'd

have a chance of thanking you for all you've done for me.'

'It's been a success then?'

I looked at him. He was very fat now and bald, but his eyes twinkled gaily and his

fleshy, red face bore an expression of perfect good-humour. The clothes he wore, terribly

shabby they were, had been made obviously by a Spanish tailor and his hat was the widebrimmed

sombrero of the Spaniard. He looked to me as though he knew a good bottle of

wine when he saw it. He had a dissipated, though entirely sympathetic, appearance. You

might have hesitated to let him remove your appendix, but you could not have imagined a

more delightful creature to drink a glass of wine with

'Surely you were married?' I said.

`Yes. My wife didn't like Spain, she went back to Camberwell, she was more at

home there.'

'Oh, I'm sorry for that'

His black eyes flashed a bacchanalian smile. He really had somewhat the look of a

young Silenus.

'Life is full of compensations,' he murmured.

The words were hardly out of his mouth when a Spanish woman, no longer in her

first youth, but still boldly and voluptuously beautiful, appeared at the door. She spoke to

him in Spanish, and I could not fail to perceive that she was the mistress of the house.

As he stood at the door to let me out he said to me:

'You told me when last I saw you that if I came here I should earn just enough

money to keep body and soul together, but that I should lead a wonderful life. Well, I want

to tell you that you were right. Poor I have been and poor I shall always be, but by heaven

I've enjoyed myself. I wouldn't exchange the life I've had with that of any king in the


Date: 2016-01-14; view: 947

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