"Haggard, H Rider- When the World Shook" - читать интересную книгу автора (Haggard H. Rider)

Here I had better set out some of my shortcomings, which in
their sum have made a failure of me. Yes, a failure in the
highest sense, though I trust what Stevenson calls "a faithful
failure." These have their root in fastidiousness and that lack
of perseverance, which really means a lack of faith, again using
the word in its higher and wider sense. For if one had real faith
one would always persevere, knowing that in every work undertaken
with high aim, there is an element of nobility, however humble
and unrecognised that work may seem to be. God after all is the
God of Work, it is written large upon the face of the Universe. I
will not expand upon the thought; it would lead me too far
afield, but those who have understanding will know what I mean.

As regards what I interpret as fastidiousness, this is not very
easy to express. Perhaps a definition will help. I am like a man
with an over-developed sense of smell, who when walking through a
foreign city, however clean and well kept, can always catch the
evil savours that are inseparable from such cities. More, his
keen perception of them interferes with all other perceptions and
spoils his walks. The result is that in after years, whenever he
thinks of that beautiful city, he remembers, not its historic
buildings or its wide boulevards, or whatever it has to boast,
but rather its ancient, fish-like smell. At least he remembers
that first owing to this defect in his temperament.

So it is with everything. A lovely woman is spoiled for such a
one because she eats too much or has too high a voice; he does
not care for his shooting because the scenery is flat, or for his
fishing because the gnats bite as well as the trout. In short he
is out of tune with the world as it is. Moreover, this is a
quality which, where it exists, cannot be overcome; it affects
day-labourers as well as gentlemen at large. It is bred in the
bone.

Probably the second failure-breeding fault, lack of
perseverance, has its roots in the first, at any rate in my case.
At least on leaving college with some reputation, I was called to
the Bar where, owing to certain solicitor and other connections,
I had a good opening. Also, owing to the excellence of my memory
and powers of work, I began very well, making money even during
my first year. Then, as it happened, a certain case came my way
and, my leader falling ill suddenly after it was opened, was left
in my hands. The man whose cause I was pleading was, I think, one
of the biggest scoundrels it is possible to conceive. It was a
will case and if he won, the effect would be to beggar two most
estimable middle-aged women who were justly entitled to the
property, to which end personally I am convinced he had committed
forgery; the perjury that accompanied it I do not even mention.