Julie's curiosity--passing and perfunctory as it was--concerning the
persons and influences that had worked upon Jacob Delafield since his
college days, was felt in good earnest by not a few of Delafield's
friends. For he was a person rich in friends, reserved as he generally
was, and crotchety as most of them thought him. The mixture of
self-evident strength and manliness in his physiognomy with something
delicate and evasive, some hindering element of reflection or doubt, was
repeated in his character. On the one side he was a robust, healthy
Etonian, who could ride, shoot, and golf like the rest of his kind, who
used the terse, slangy ways of speech of the ordinary Englishman, who
loved the land and its creatures, and had a natural hatred for a
poacher; and on another he was a man haunted by dreams and spiritual
voices, a man for whom, as he paced his tired horse homeward after a
day's run, there would rise on the grays and purples of the winter dusk
far-shining "cities of God" and visions of a better life for man. He
read much poetry, and the New Testament spoke to him imperatively,
though in no orthodox or accustomed way. Ruskin, and the earlier work of
Tolstoy, then just beginning to take hold of the English mind, had
affected his thought and imagination, as the generation before him had
been affected by Carlyle, Emerson, and George Sand.
This present phase of his life, however, was the outcome of much that
was turbulent and shapeless in his first youth. He seemed to himself to
have passed through Oxford under a kind of eclipse. All that he could
remember of two-thirds of his time there was an immoderate amount of
eating, drinking, and sleeping. A heavy animal existence, disturbed by
moments of unhappiness and remorse, or, at best, lightened by intervals
and gleams of friendship with two or three men who tried to prod him out
of his lethargy, and cherished what appeared, to himself in particular,
a strange and unreasonable liking for him. Such, to his own thinking,
had been his Oxford life, up to the last year of his residence there.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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