He was wrong in
his treatment of men--utterly wrong--but his facts were always
correct. I never saw anybody hated as he was, and the hatred against
him was the more intense because nobody could convict him of a
mistake. He seemed to enjoy a storm, and knew nothing whatever of
the constraints which with ordinary men prevent abusive and brutal
language to those around them. Some of his clerks suffered greatly
from him, and he almost broke down two or three from the constant
nervous strain upon them produced by fear of his explosions. For my
own part, although I came in for a full share of his temper, I at
once made up my mind as soon as I discovered what he was, not to open
my lips to him except under compulsion. My one object now was to get
a living. I wished also to avoid the self-mortification which must
ensue from altercation. I dreaded, as I have always dreaded beyond
what I can tell, the chaos and wreck which, with me, follows
subjugation by anger, and I held to my resolve under all provocation.
It was very difficult, but how many times I have blessed myself for
adhesion to it. Instead of going home undone with excitement, and
trembling with fear of dismissal, I have walked out of my dungeon
having had to bite my lips till the blood came, but still conqueror,
and with peace of mind.
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