some
time past I had avoided opening any work of fiction because one of the
greatest faults of my youth had been that I invariably and unconsciously
mimicked the style of the last author whom I had happened to read. Now,
however, I made up my mind to seek safety in a multitude, and by
consulting _all_ the English classics to avoid the danger of imitating
any one too closely. I had just accomplished the task of reading through
the majority of the standard novels at the time when my narrative
commences.

It was, then, about twenty minutes to ten on the night of the fourth of
June, eighteen hundred and eighty-six, that, after disposing of a pint
of beer and a Welsh rarebit for my supper, I seated myself in my
arm-chair, cocked my feet upon a stool, and lit my pipe, as was my
custom. Both my pulse and my temperature were, as far as I know, normal
at the time. I would give the state of the barometer, but that unlucky
instrument had experienced an unprecedented fall of forty-two
inches--from a nail to the ground--and was not in a reliable condition.
We live in a scientific age, and I flatter myself that I move with the
times.

Whilst in that comfortable lethargic condition which accompanies both
digestion and poisoning by nicotine, I suddenly became aware of the
extraordinary fact that my little drawing-room had elongated into a
great _salon_, and that my humble table had increased in proportion.
Round this colossal mahogany were seated a great number of people who
were talking earnestly together, and the surface in front of them was
strewn with books and pamphlets. I could not help observing that these
persons were dressed in a most extraordinary mixture of costumes, for
those at the end nearest to me wore peruke wigs, swords, and all the
fashions of two centuries back; those about the centre had tight
knee-breeches, high cravats, and heavy bunches of seals; while among
those at the far side the majority were dressed in the most modern
style, and among them I saw, to my surprise, several eminent men of
letters whom I had the honour of knowing. There were two or three women
in the company. I should have risen to my feet to greet these unexpected
guests, but all power of motion appeared to have deserted me, and I
could only lie still and listen to their conversation, which I soon
perceived to be all about myself.

"Egad!" exclaimed a rough, weather-beaten man, who was smoking a long
church-warden pipe at my end of the tab