Mr. Pendennis's labor, or rather his disposition, was of that sort
that his daily occupations did not much interest him, for the
excitement of literary composition pretty soon subsides with the hired
laborer, and the delight of seeing one's self in print only extends to
the first two or three appearances in the magazine or newspaper page.
Pegasus put into harness, and obliged to run a stage every day, is as
prosaic as any other hack, and won't work without his whip or his feed
of corn. So, indeed Mr. Arthur performed his work at the Pall Mall
Gazette (and since his success as a novelist with an increased
salary), but without the least enthusiasm, doing his best or pretty
nearly, and sometimes writing ill and sometimes well. He was a
literary hack, naturally fast in pace, and brilliant in action.
Neither did society, or that portion which he saw, excite or amuse him
overmuch. In spite of his brag and boast to the contrary, he was too
young as yet for women's society, which probably can only be had in
perfection when a man has ceased to think about his own person, and
has given up all designs of being a conqueror of ladies; he was too
young to be admitted as an equal among men who had made their mark in
the world, and of whose conversation he could scarcely as yet expect
to be more than a listener.
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