“You were probably strongly fascinated by the supposed rewards of a
literary career?”
“Yes. A definite literary ambition grew up in me, and in the long
reveries of the afternoon, when I was distributing my case in the
printing office, I fashioned a future of overpowering magnificence and
undying celebrity. I should be ashamed to say what literary triumphs I
achieved in those preposterous deliriums. But I realize now that such
dreams are nerving, and sustain one in an otherwise barren struggle.”
“Were you ever tempted and willing to abandon your object of a literary
life for something else?”
“I was once. My first and only essay, aside from literature, was in
the realm of law. It was arranged with a United States senator that I
should study law in his office. I tried it a month, but almost from the
first day, I yearned to return to my books. I had not only to go back
to literature, but to the printing office, and I gladly chose to do
it,—a step I never regretted.”
“You started out to attain personal distinction and happiness, did you
not?”
“I did.”