of historians,--than many others; and had, perhaps, a more accurate
idea of the manner in which my own country was governed. I knew the
names of all the Bishops, all the Judges, all the Heads of Colleges,
and all the Cabinet Ministers,--not a very useful knowledge indeed,
but one that had not been acquired without other matter which was
more useful. I had read Shakespeare and Byron and Scott, and could
talk about them. The music of the Miltonic line was familiar to
me. I had already made up my mind that Pride and Prejudice was the
best novel in the English language,--a palm which I only partially
withdrew after a second reading of Ivanhoe, and did not completely
bestow elsewhere till Esmond was written. And though I would
occasionally break down in my spelling, I could write a letter. If
I had a thing to say, I could so say it in written words that the
readers should know what I meant,--a power which is by no means
at the command of all those who come out from these competitive
examinations with triumph. Early in life, at the age of fifteen,
I had commenced the dangerous habit of keeping a journal, and this
I maintained for ten years. The volumes remained in my possession
unregarded--never looked at--till 1870, when I examined them, and,
with many blushes, destroyed them. They convicted me of folly,
ignorance, indiscretion, idleness, extravagance, and conceit. But
they had habituated me to the rapid use of pen and ink, and taught
me how to express myself with faculty.
I will mention here another habit which had grown upon me from
still earlier years,--which I myself often regarded with dismay
when I thought of the hours devoted to it, but which, I suppose,
must have tended to make me what I have been. As a boy, even as a
child, I was thrown much upon myself. I have explained, when speaking
of my school-days, how it came to pass that other boys would not
play with me. I was therefore alone, and had to form my plays
within myself. Play of some kind was necessary to me then, as it
always has been. Study was not my bent, and I could not please
myself by being all idle. Thus it came to pass that I was always
going about with some castle in the air firmly build within my
mind. Nor were these efforts in architecture spasmodic, or subject
to constant change from day to day. For weeks, for months, if
I remember rightly, from year to year, I would carry on the same
tale, binding myself down to certain laws, to certain proportions,
and proprieties, and unities. Nothing impossible was ever
introduced,--nor even anything which, from outward circumstances,
would seem to be violently improbable. I myself was of course my own
hero. Such is a necessity of castle-building. But I never became a
king, or a duke,--much less when my height and personal appearance
were fixed could I be an Antinous, or six feet high. I never was
a learned man, nor even a philosopher. But I was a very clever
person, and beautiful young women used to be fond of me. And I
strove to be kind of heart, and open of hand, and noble in thought,
despising mean things; and altogether I was a very much better
fellow than I have ever succeeded in being since. This had been
the occupation of my life for six or seven years before I went to
the Post Office, and was by no means abandoned when I commenced
my work. There can, I imagine, hardly be a more dangerous mental
practice; but I have often doubted whether, had it not been my
practice, I should ever have written a novel. I learned in this way
to maintain an interest in a fictitious story, to dwell on a work
created by my own imagination, and to live in a world altogether
outside the world of my own material life. In after years I have
done the same,--with this difference, that I have discarded the
hero of my early dreams, and have been able to lay my own identity
aside.
I must certainly acknowledge that the first seven years of my
official life were neither creditable to myself nor useful to the
public service. These seven years were passed in London, and during
this period of my life it was my duty to be present every morning
at the office punctually at 10 A.M. I think I commenced my quarrels
with the authorities there by having in my possession a watch
which was always ten minutes late. I know that I very soon achieved
a character for irregularity, and came to be regarded as a black
sheep by men around me who were not themselves, I think, very
good public servants. From time to time rumours reached me that if
I did not take care I should be dismissed; especially one rumour
in my early days, through my dearly beloved friend Mrs. Clayton
Freeling,--who, as I write this, is still living, and who, with
tears in her eyes, besought me to think of my mother. That was during
the life of Sir Francis Freeling, who died,--still in harness,--a
little more than twelve months after I joined the office. And yet
the old man showed me signs of almost affectionate kindness, writing
to me with his own hand more than once from his death-bed.
Sir Francis Freeling was followed at the Post Office by Colonel
Maberly, who certainly was not my friend. I do not know that I
deserved to find a friend in my new master, but I think that a man
with better judgment would not have formed so low an opinion of
me as he did. Years have gone by, and I can write now, and almost
feel, without anger; but I can remember well the keenness of my
anguish when I was treated as though I were unfit for any useful
work. I did struggle--not to do the work, for there was nothing
which was not easy without any struggling--but to show that I
was willing to do it. My bad character nevertheless stuck to me,
and was not to be got rid of by any efforts within my power. I do
admit that I was irregular. It was not considered to be much in
my favour that I could write letters--which was mainly the work of
our office--rapidly, correctly, and to the purpose. The man who
came at ten, and who was always still at his desk at half-past four,
was preferred before me, though when at his desk he might be less
efficient. Such preference was no doubt proper; but, with a little
encouragement, I also would have been punctual. I got credit for
nothing and was reckless.
As it was, the conduct of some of us was very bad. There was a
comfortable sitting-room up-stairs, devoted to the use of some one
of our number who in turn was required to remain in the place all
night. Hither one or two of us would adjourn after lunch, and
play ecarte for an hour or two. I do not know whether such ways
are possible now in our public offices. And here we used to have
suppers and card-parties at night--great symposiums, with much
smoking of tobacco; for in our part of the building there lived a
whole bevy of clerks. These were gentlemen whose duty it then was
to make up and receive the foreign mails. I do not remember that
they worked later or earlier than the other sorting-clerks; but
there was supposed to be something special in foreign letters,
which required that the men who handled them should have minds
undistracted by the outer world. Their salaries, too, were higher
than those of their more homely brethren; and they paid nothing
for their lodgings. Consequently there was a somewhat fast set in
those apartments, given to cards and to tobacco, who drank spirits