I
think, indeed, that his only doubt was a natural diffidence as to
whether the record had sufficient importance to justify its
publication. In any case, my own duty in the matter is to me
absolutely clear.
But I think that it will be as well for me to sketch a brief
outline of my friend's life and character. I would have preferred
to have done this, if it had been possible, by allowing him to
speak for himself. But the earlier Diaries which exist are nothing
but the briefest chronicle of events. He put his earlier
confessions into his books, but he was in many ways more
interesting than his books, and so I will try and draw a portrait
of him as he appeared to one of his earliest friends. I knew him
first as an undergraduate, and our friendship was unbroken after
that. The Diary, written as it is under the shadow of a series of
calamities, gives an impression of almost wilful sadness which is
far from the truth. The requisite contrast can only be attained by
representing him as he appeared to those who knew him.
He was the son of a moderately wealthy country solicitor, and was
brought up on normal lines. His mother died while he was a boy. He
had one brother, younger than himself, and a sister who was younger
still.
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