Her most
distinguishing characteristic, however, was rapidity of thought. If
one ventured to suggest she had not taken much time to arrive at any
conclusion, she would say, "I cannot help it, things flash across me."
That peculiarity has been passed on to me in full strength; it has often
stood me in good stead; it has sometimes played me sad tricks, and it
has always been a danger. But, after all, if my time were to come
over again, there is nothing I would less willingly part with than my
inheritance of mother wit.

I have next to nothing to say about my childhood. In later years my
mother, looking at me almost reproachfully, would sometimes say, "Ah!
you were such a pretty boy!" whence I had no difficulty in concluding
that I had not fulfilled my early promise in the matter of looks. In
fact, I have a distinct recollection of certain curls of which I was
vain, and of a conviction that I closely resembled that handsome,
courtly gentleman, Sir Herbert Oakley, who was vicar of our parish, and
who was as a god to us country folk, because he was occasionally visited
by the then Prince George of Cambridge. [4] I remember turning my
pinafore wrong side forwards in order to represent a surplice, and
preaching to my mother's maids in the kitchen as nearly as possible in
Sir Herbert's manner one Sunday morning when the rest of the family were
at church. That is the earliest indication I can call to mind of the
strong clerical affinities which my friend Mr. Herbert Spencer [5]
has always ascribed to me, though I fancy they have for the most part
remained in a latent state.

My regular school training was of the briefest, perhaps fortunately,
for though my way of life has made me acquainted with all sorts and
conditions of men, from the highest to the lowest, I deliberately affirm
that the society I fell into at school was the worst I have ever known.
We boys were average lads, with much the same inherent capacity for good
and evil as any others; but the people who were set over us cared
about as much for our intellectual and moral welfare as if they
were baby-farmers. We were left to the operation of the struggle
for existence among ourselves, and bullying was the least of the ill
practices current among us. Almost the only cheerful reminiscence in
connection with the place which arises in my mind is that of a battle I
had with one of my classmates, who had bullied me until I could stand it
no longer. I was a very slight lad