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Autobiography of Anthony Trollope

Preface

It may be well that I should put a short preface to this book. In

the summer of 1878 my father told me that he had written a memoir

of his own life. He did not speak about it at length, but said

that he had written me a letter, not to be opened until after his

death, containing instructions for publication.

This letter was dated 30th April, 1876. I will give here as much

of it as concerns the public: "I wish you to accept as a gift from

me, given you now, the accompanying pages which contain a memoir

of my life. My intention is that they shall be published after

my death, and be edited by you. But I leave it altogether to your

discretion whether to publish or to suppress the work;--and also

to your discretion whether any part or what part shall be omitted.

But I would not wish that anything should be added to the memoir.

If you wish to say any word as from yourself, let it be done in

the shape of a preface or introductory chapter. " At the end there

is a postscript: "The publication, if made at all, should be effected

as soon as possible after my death. " My father died on the 6th of

December, 1882.

It will be seen, therefore, that my duty has been merely to pass

the book through the press conformably to the above instructions.

I have placed headings to the right-hand pages throughout the book,

and I do not conceive that I was precluded from so doing. Additions

of any other sort there have been none; the few footnotes are my

father's own additions or corrections. And I have made no alterations.

I have suppressed some few passages, but not more than would amount

to two printed pages has been omitted. My father has not given any

of his own letters, nor was it his wish that any should be published.

So much I would say by way of preface.

in a few words the main incidents in my father's life after he

completed his autobiography.

He has said that he had given up hunting; but he still kept two

horses for such riding as may be had in or about the immediate

neighborhood of London. He continued to ride to the end of his

life: he liked the exercise, and I think it would have distressed

him not to have had a horse in his stable. But he never spoke

willingly on hunting matters. He had at last resolved to give up

his favourite amusement, and that as far as he was concerned there

should be an end of it. In the spring of 1877 he went to South

Africa, and returned early in the following year with a book on

the colony already written. In the summer of 1878, he was one of

a party of ladies and gentlemen who made an expedition to Iceland

in the "Mastiff," one of Mr. John Burns' steam-ships. The journey

lasted altogether sixteen days, and during that time Mr. and Mrs.

Burns were the hospitable entertainers. When my father returned,

he wrote a short account of How the "Mastiffs" went to Iceland.

The book was printed, but was intended only for private circulation.

Every day, until his last illness, my father continued his work.

He would not otherwise have been happy. He demanded from himself