E-text prepared by Matt Whittaker, Suzanne Shell,
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Transcriber's Note:
Obvious typographical errors were corrected and the use of hyphenswas made consistent throughout. All other spelling and punctuationwas retained as it appeared in the original text.
MY LIFE:
OR
THE ADVENTURES OF GEO. THOMPSON.BEING THE AUTO-BIOGRAPHY OF ANAUTHOR. WRITTEN BY HIMSELF.
{First published 1854}
Yellow Cover of Thompson's My Life. Original size 6 x9-1/8". Courtesy, American Antiquarian Society.INTRODUCTION
In which the author defineth his position.
It having become the fashion of distinguished novelists to write theirown lives—or, in other words, to blow their own trumpets,—the authorof these pages is induced, at the solicitation of numerous friends,whose bumps of inquisitiveness are strongly developed, to present hisauto-biography to the public—in so doing which, he but follows theexample of Alexandre Dumas, the brilliant French novelist, and of theworld-renowned Dickens, both of whom are understood to be preparingtheir personal histories for the press.
Now, in comparing myself with the above great worthies, who are sodeservedly distinguished in the world of literature, I shall be accusedof unpardonable presumption and ridiculous egotism—but I care not whatmay be said of me, inasmuch as a total independence of the opinions,feelings and prejudices of the world, has always been a prominentcharacteristic of mine—and that portion of the world and the "rest ofmankind" which does not like me, has my full permission to go to thedevil as soon as it can make all the necessary arrangements for thejourney.
I shall be true and candid, in these pages. I shall not seek to concealone of my numerous faults which I acknowledge and deplore; and, if Iimagine that I possess one solitary merit, I shall not be backward inmaking that merit known. Those who know me personally, will never accuseme of entertaining one single atom of that despicable quality,self-conceit; those who do not know me, are at liberty to think whatthey please.—Heaven knows that had I possessed a higher estimation ofmyself, a more complete reliance upon my own powers, and some of thatuniversal commodity known as "cheek," I should at this present momenthave been far better off in fame and fortune. But I have beenunobtrusive, unambitious, retiring—and my friends have blamed me forthis a thousand times. I have seen writers of no talent at all—pettyscribblers, wasters of ink and spoilers of paper, who could not writesix consecutive lines of English grammar, and whose short paragraphs forthe newspapers invariably had to undergo revision and correction—I haveseen such fellows caus