The Confessions of an English Opium-Eater | Page 7

and I prepared myself, therefore,
for other measures. Summer was now coming on with hasty steps, and
my seventeenth birthday was fast approaching, after which day I had
sworn within myself that I would no longer be numbered amongst
schoolboys. Money being what I chiefly wanted, I wrote to a woman of
high rank, who, though young herself, had known me from a child, and
had latterly treated me with great distinction, requesting that she would
"lend" me five guineas. For upwards of a week no answer came, and I
was beginning to despond, when at length a servant put into my hands a
double letter with a coronet on the seal. The letter was kind and
obliging. The fair writer was on the sea-coast, and in that way the delay
had arisen; she enclosed double of what I had asked, and good-
naturedly hinted that if I should NEVER repay her, it would not
absolutely ruin her. Now, then, I was prepared for my scheme. Ten
guineas, added to about two which I had remaining from my pocket-
money, seemed to me sufficient for an indefinite length of time; and at
that happy age, if no DEFINITE boundary can be assigned to one's
power, the spirit of hope and pleasure makes it virtually infinite.
It is a just remark of Dr. Johnson's (and, what cannot often be said of
his remarks, it is a very feeling one), that we never do anything
consciously for the last time (of things, that is, which we have long
been in the habit of doing) without sadness of heart. This truth I felt

deeply when I came to leave -, a place which I did not love, and where
I had not been happy. On the evening before I left- -for ever, I grieved
when the ancient and lofty schoolroom resounded with the evening
service, performed for the last time in my hearing; and at night, when
the muster-roll of names was called over, and mine (as usual) was
called first, I stepped forward, and passing the head-master, who was
standing by, I bowed to him, and looked earnestly in his face, thinking
to myself, "He is old and infirm, and in this world I shall not see him
again." I was right; I never DID see him again, nor ever shall. He
looked at me complacently, smiled good-naturedly, returned my
salutation (or rather my valediction), and we parted (though he knew it
not) for ever. I could not reverence him intellectually, but he had been
uniformly kind to me, and had allowed me many indulgences; and I
grieved at the thought of the mortification I should inflict upon him.
The morning came which was to launch me into the world, and from
which my whole succeeding life has in many important points taken its
colouring. I lodged in the head-master's house, and had been allowed
from my first entrance the indulgence of a private room, which I used
both as a sleeping-room and as a study. At half after three I rose, and
gazed with deep emotion at the ancient towers of - , "drest in earliest
light," and beginning to crimson with the radiant lustre of a cloudless
July morning. I was firm and immovable in my purpose; but yet
agitated by anticipation of uncertain danger and troubles; and if I could
have foreseen the hurricane and perfect hail-storm of affliction which
soon fell upon me, well might I have been agitated. To this agitation
the deep peace of the morning presented an affecting contrast, and in
some degree a medicine. The silence was more profound than that of
mid- night; and to me the silence of a summer morning is more
touching than all other silence, because, the light being broad and
strong as that of noonday at other seasons of the year, it seems to differ
from perfect day chiefly because man is not yet abroad; and thus the
peace of nature and of the innocent creatures of God seems to be secure
and deep only so long as the presence of man and his restless and
unquiet spirit are not there to trouble its sanctity. I dressed myself, took
my hat and gloves, and lingered a little in the room. For the last year
and a half this room had been my "pensive citadel": here I had read and
studied through all the hours of night, and though true it was that for

the latter part of this time I, who was framed for love and gentle
affections, had lost my gaiety and happiness during the strife and fever
of contention with my guardian, yet, on the other hand, as a boy so
passionately fond of books, and dedicated to intellectual pursuits, I
could not fail to have enjoyed many