258 PRÆTERITA-II

implying that seventy was a low price, at once told me in answer to my confidence. But it was thirty above the “Winchelsea,” twenty-four above “Gosport,” and my father was of course sure that Mr. Griffith had put twenty pounds on at the instant.

The mingled grief and scorn on his face told me what I had done; but I was too happy on pouncing on my “Harlech” to feel for him. All sorts of blindness and error on both sides, but, on his side, inevitable,-on mine, more foolish than culpable; fatal every way, beyond words.

16. I can scarcely understand my eagerness and delight in getting the “Harlech” at this time, because, during the winter, negotiations had been carried on in Paris for Adèle’s marriage; and, it does not seem as if I had been really so much crushed by that event as I expected to be. There are expressions, however, in the foolish diaries I began to write, soon after, of general disdain of life, and all that it could in future bestow on me, which seem inconsistent with extreme satisfaction in getting a water-colour drawing, sixteen inches by nine. But whatever germs of better things remained in me, were then all centred in this love of Turner. It was not a piece of painted paper, but a Welsh castle and village, and Snowdon in blue cloud, that I bought for my seventy pounds.¹ This must have been in the Easter holidays;-“Harlech” was brought home and

¹ [The first draft here continued as follows:-

“I do not quote any of the bits of diary written at this time, because I am heavily ashamed of them, and they would only discomfort, and partly mislead the reader-representing the exactly worst part of me. What strength I had went still into my college work and into variously progressive study of art, which I took no record of. The things I wrote were passing feelings of discontent which I partly wondered at myself, and partly wanted other people to sympathise with, some day or other- these mixed with notes about the people I met, mostly arrogant, and of no value. The thoughtful reader may ask me-and with good reason-what at this time had become of all my well-learned chapters, my college taught orthodoxy, my zeal for the Protestant religion. If he will look back to what I have told of the chapter-learning, he will not find it spoken of as immediately delightful or resultful. For any effect it had on my own character hitherto, I might as well have learned the Koran in Arabic. The effect up to this time had been merely literary and imaginative, forming my taste, and securing my belief in the supernatural-or quasi-belief -gradating into the kind of credit I gave the Arabian Nights.

[Version 0.04: March 2008]