Hopes were conceived of the boy; he was sent to a good school,
gained there an Oxford scholarship, and proceeded in course to
the Western University. With all his talent and taste (and he had
much of both) Robert was deficient in consistency and
intellectual manhood, wandered in bypaths of study, worked at
music or at metaphysics when he should have been at Greek, and
took at last a paltry degree. Almost at the same time, the London
house was disastrously wound up; Mr Herrick must begin the
world again as a clerk in a strange office, and Robert relinquish
his ambitions and accept with gratitude a career that he detested
and despised. He had no head for figures, no interest in affairs,
detested the constraint of hours, and despised the aims and the
success of merchants. To grow rich was none of his ambitions;
rather to do well. A worse or a more bold young man would
have refused the destiny; perhaps tried his future with his pen;
perhaps enlisted. Robert, more prudent, possibly more timid,
consented to embrace that way of life in which he could most
readily assist his family. But he did so with a mind divided;
fled the neighbourhood of former comrades; and chose, out of
several positions placed at his disposal, a clerkship in New
York.

His career thenceforth was one of unbroken shame. He did
not drink, he was exactly honest, he was never rude to his
employers, yet was everywhere discharged. Bringing no interest
to his duties, he brought no attention; his day was a tissue of
things neglected and things done amiss; and from place to place
and from town to town, he carried the character of one
thoroughly incompetent. No man can bear the word applied to
him without some flush of colour, as indeed there is none other