CHAPTER I

Thetimeofmyendapproaches.Ihavelatelybeensubjecttoattacksofanginapectorisandintheordinarycourseofthings,myphysiciantellsme,Imayfairlyhopethatmylifewillnotbeprotractedmanymonths.Unless,then,Iamcursedwithanexceptionalphysicalconstitution,asIamcursedwithanexceptionalmentalcharacter,Ishallnotmuchlongergroanunderthewearisomeburthenofthisearthlyexistence.Ifitweretobeotherwise—ifIweretoliveontotheagemostmendesireandprovidefor—Ishouldforoncehaveknownwhetherthemiseriesofdelusiveexpectationcanoutweighthemiseriesoftrueprevision.ForIforeseewhenIshalldie,andeverythingthatwillhappeninmylastmoments. Justamonthfromthisday,onSeptember20,1850,Ishallbesittinginthischair,inthisstudy,atteno’clockatnight,longingtodie,wearyofincessantinsightandforesight,withoutdelusionsandwithouthope.JustasIamwatchingatongueofblueflamerisinginthefire,andmylampisburninglow,thehorriblecontractionwillbeginatmychest.Ishallonlyhavetimetoreachthebell,andpullitviolently,beforethesenseofsuffocationwillcome.Noonewillanswermybell.Iknowwhy.Mytwoservantsarelovers,andwillhavequarrelled.Myhousekeeperwillhaverushedoutofthehouseinafury,twohoursbefore,hopingthatPerrywillbelieveshehasgonetodrownherself.Perryisalarmedatlast,andisgoneoutafterher.Thelittlescullery-maidisasleeponabench:sheneveranswersthebellitdoesnotwakeher.Thesenseofsuffocationincreases:mylampgoesoutwithahorriblestench:Imakeagreateffort,andsnatchatthebellagain.Ilongforlife,andthereisnohelp.Ithirstedfortheunknown:thethirstisgone.OGod,letmestaywiththeknown,andbewearyofit:Iamcontent.Agonyofpainandsuffocation—andallthewhiletheearth,thefields,thepebblybrookatthebottomoftherookery,thefreshscentaftertherain,thelightofthemorningthroughmychamber-window,thewarmthofthehearthafterthefrostyair—willdarknesscloseoverthemforever? Darkness—darkness—nopain—nothingbutdarkness:butIampassingonandonthroughthedarkness:mythoughtstaysinthedarkness,butalwayswithasenseofmovingonward... Beforethattimecomes,Iwishtousemylasthoursofeaseandstrengthintellingthestrangestoryofmyexperience.IhaveneverfullyunbosomedmyselftoanyhumanbeingIhaveneverbeenencouragedtotrustmuchinthesympathyofmyfellow-men.Butwehaveallachanceofmeetingwithsomepity,sometenderness,somecharity,whenwearedead:itisthelivingonlywhocannotbeforgiven—thelivingonlyfromwhommen’sindulgenceandreverenceareheldoff,liketherainbythehardeastwind.Whiletheheartbeats,bruiseit—itisyouronlyopportunitywhiletheeyecanstillturntowardsyouwithmoist,timidentreaty,freezeitwithanicyunansweringgazewhiletheear,thatdelicatemessengertotheinmostsanctuaryofthesoul,canstilltakeinthetonesofkindness,putitoffwithhardcivility,orsneeringcompliment,orenviousaffectationofindifferencewhilethecreativebraincanstillthrobwiththesenseofinjustice,withtheyearningforbrotherlyrecognition—makehaste—oppressitwithyourill-consideredjudgements,yourtrivialcomparisons,yourcarelessmisrepresentations.Theheartwillbyandbybestill—“ubisaevaindignatioulteriuscorlacerarenequit”theeyewillceasetoentreattheearwillbedeafthebrainwillhaveceasedfromallwantsaswellasfromallwork.Thenyourcharitablespeechesmayfindventthenyoumayrememberandpitythetoilandthestruggleandthefailurethenyoumaygiveduehonourtotheworkachievedthenyoumayfindextenuationforerrors,andmayconsenttoburythem. ThatisatrivialschoolboytextwhydoIdwellonit?Ithaslittlereferencetome,forIshallleavenoworksbehindmeformentohonour.Ihavenonearrelativeswhowillmakeup,byweepingovermygrave,forthewoundstheyinflictedonmewhenIwasamongthem.ItisonlythestoryofmylifethatwillperhapswinalittlemoresympathyfromstrangerswhenIamdead,thanIeverbelieveditwouldobtainfrommyfriendswhileIwasliving. Mychildhoodperhapsseemshappiertomethanitreallywas,bycontrastwithalltheafter-years.Forthenthecurtainofthefuturewasasimpenetrabletomeastootherchildren:Ihadalltheirdelightinthepresenthour,theirsweetindefinitehopesforthemorrowandIhadatendermother:evennow,afterthedrearylapseoflongyears,aslighttraceofsensationaccompaniestheremembranceofhercaressassheheldmeonherknee—herarmsroundmylittlebody,hercheekpressedonmine.Ihadacomplaintoftheeyesthatmademeblindforalittlewhile,andshekeptmeonherkneefrommorningtillnight.Thatunequalledlovesoonvanishedoutofmylife,andeventomychildishconsciousnessitwasasifthatlifehadbecomemorechillIrodemylittlewhiteponywiththegroombymysideasbefore,buttherewerenolovingeyeslookingatmeasImounted,nogladarmsopenedtomewhenIcameback.PerhapsImissedmymother’slovemorethanmostchildrenofsevenoreightwouldhavedone,towhomtheotherpleasuresofliferemainedasbeforeforIwascertainlyaverysensitivechild.IrememberstillthemingledtrepidationanddeliciousexcitementwithwhichIwasaffectedbythetrampingofthehorsesonthepavementintheechoingstables,bytheloudresonanceofthegroom’svoices,bytheboomingbarkofthedogsasmyfather’scarriagethunderedunderthearchwayofthecourtyard,bythedinofthegongasitgavenoticeofluncheonanddinner.ThemeasuredtrampofsoldierywhichIsometimesheard—formyfather’shouselaynearacountytownwheretherewerelargebarracks—mademesobandtrembleandyetwhentheyweregonepast,Ilongedforthemtocomebackagain. Ifancymyfatherthoughtmeanoddchild,andhadlittlefondnessformethoughhewasverycarefulinfulfillingwhatheregardedasaparent’sduties.Buthewasalreadypastthemiddleoflife,andIwasnothisonlyson.Mymotherhadbeenhissecondwife,andhewasfive-and-fortywhenhemarriedher.Hewasafirm,unbending,intenselyorderlyman,inrootandstemabanker,butwithaflourishinggraftoftheactivelandholder,aspiringtocountyinfluence:oneofthosepeoplewhoarealwayslikethemselvesfromdaytoday,whoareuninfluencedbytheweather,andneitherknowmelancholynorhighspirits.Iheldhimingreatawe,andappearedmoretimidandsensitiveinhispresencethanatothertimesacircumstancewhich,perhaps,helpedtoconfirmhimintheintentiontoeducatemeonadifferentplanfromtheprescriptiveonewithwhichhehadcompliedinthecaseofmyelderbrother,alreadyatallyouthatEton.MybrotherwastobehisrepresentativeandsuccessorhemustgotoEtonandOxford,forthesakeofmakingconnexions,ofcourse:myfatherwasnotamantounderratethebearingofLatinsatiristsorGreekdramatistsontheattainmentofanaristocraticposition.But,intrinsically,hehadslightesteemfor“thosedeadbutsceptredspirits”havingqualifiedhimselfforforminganindependentopinionbyreadingPotter’s?schylus,anddippingintoFrancis’sHorace.Tothisnegativeviewheaddedapositiveone,derivedfromarecentconnexionwithminingspeculationsnamely,thatascientificeducationwasthereallyusefultrainingforayoungerson.Moreover,itwasclearthatashy,sensitiveboylikemewasnotfittoencountertheroughexperienceofapublicschool.Mr.Letherallhadsaidsoverydecidedly.Mr.Letherallwasalargemaninspectacles,whoonedaytookmysmallheadbetweenhislargehands,andpressedithereandthereinanexploratory,auspiciousmanner—thenplacedeachofhisgreatthumbsonmytemples,andpushedmealittlewayfromhim,andstaredatmewithglitteringspectacles.Thecontemplationappearedtodispleasehim,forhefrownedsternly,andsaidtomyfather,drawinghisthumbsacrossmyeyebrows— “Thedeficiencyisthere,sir—thereandhere,”headded,touchingtheuppersidesofmyhead,“hereistheexcess.Thatmustbebroughtout,sir,andthismustbelaidtosleep.” Iwasinastateoftremor,partlyatthevagueideathatIwastheobjectofreprobation,partlyintheagitationofmyfirsthatred—hatredofthisbig,spectacledman,whopulledmyheadaboutasifhewantedtobuyandcheapenit. IamnotawarehowmuchMr.Letherallhadtodowiththesystemafterwardsadoptedtowardsme,butitwaspresentlyclearthatprivatetutors,naturalhistory,science,andthemodernlanguages,weretheappliancesbywhichthedefectsofmyorganizationweretoberemedied.Iwasverystupidaboutmachines,soIwastobegreatlyoccupiedwiththemIhadnomemoryforclassification,soitwasparticularlynecessarythatIshouldstudysystematiczoologyandbotanyIwashungryforhumandeedsandhumanemotions,soIwastobeplentifullycrammedwiththemechanicalpowers,theelementarybodies,andthephenomenaofelectricityandmagnetism.Abetter-constitutedboywouldcertainlyhaveprofitedundermyintelligenttutors,withtheirscientificapparatusandwould,doubtless,havefoundthephenomenaofelectricityandmagnetismasfascinatingasIwas,everyThursday,assuredtheywere.Asitwas,Icouldhavepairedoff,forignoranceofwhateverwastaughtme,withtheworstLatinscholarthatwaseverturnedoutofaclassicalacademy.IreadPlutarch,andShakespeare,andDonQuixotebythesly,andsuppliedmyselfinthatwaywithwanderingthoughts,whilemytutorwasassuringmethat“animprovedman,asdistinguishedfromanignorantone,wasamanwhoknewthereasonwhywaterrandownhill.”IhadnodesiretobethisimprovedmanIwasgladoftherunningwaterIcouldwatchitandlistentoitgurglingamongthepebbles,andbathingthebrightgreenwater-plants,bythehourtogether.Ididno