The only way out of the
difficulty was to rid myself of the brogue, and this I proceeded to
do.

All around me were cockney Englishmen, murdering the Queen's English,
and Scotchmen who were doing worse. I had not yet become the possessor
of a dictionary, and my chief instructors in language, and
particularly pronunciation and enunciation, were preachers and
lecturers.

With regard to literature, I was like a man lost in a forest. I had no
guide. One night I attended a lecture by Dr. J.W. Kirton, the author
of a tract called, "Buy Your Own Cherries." This tract my mother had
read to me when a boy, and it had made a very profound impression upon
me. The author was very kind, gave me an interview, and advised me to
read as my first novel, "John Halifax, Gentleman." Inside of a week I
had read the book twice, the second time with dictionary, and pencil.
The story fascinated me, and the way in which it was told opened up
new channels of improvement. I memorized whole pages of it, and even
took long walks by the seaside repeating over and over what I had
memorized.

The enlargement of my opportunities in garrison life revealed to me
something of the amount of work required to accomplish my purpose. In
the midst of people who had merely an ordinary grammar school
education, I felt like a child. When discouragement came, I took
refuge in the fact that several avenues of usefulness were open to me
in army life. I had shown some proficiency in gunnery. For a steady
plodder who attends strictly to business there is always promotion. As
a flunky, there was the incentive of double pay, the wearing of plain
clothes, and some intimate touch with the aristocracy. Many a time
one of these avenues seemed the only career open for me. I hardly knew
what an education meant; but, whatever it meant, it was a long way off
and almost out of reach. One day in going over my well-marked "John
Halifax," I came across this passage:

"'What would you do, John, if you were shut up here, and had to
get over the yew hedge? You could not climb it.'

"'I know that, and therefore I should not waste time in trying.'

"'Would you give up, then?'

"He smiled: there was no 'giving up' in that smile of his. 'I'll
tell you what I'd do: I'd begin and break it, twig by twig, till I
forced my way through, and got out safe at the other side.'"

This was a new inspiration. The difficulty was not lessened by the
inspiration, but a new method