Three chapters in the story of my life--three periods, distinct and well defined, yet consecutive--beginning when I had not completed twenty-five years and finishing before thirty, will probably prove the most eventful of all. To the very end they will come back oftenest to memory and seem more vivid than all the other years of existence--the four-and-twenty I had already lived, and the, say, forty or forty-five--I hope it may be fifty or even sixty--which are to follow. For what soul in this wonderful, various world would wish to depart before ninety! The dark as well as the light, its sweet and its bitter, make me love it. Of the first of these three a word only need be written. This was …
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