Asquith. Here was an adventure indeed, and I can say
again with perfect sincerity that for me the greatest delight of the
whole thing was this element of the Romantic.
I was quite sensible that I had had the devil's own luck in my capture
of a post on _The Spectator_. Indeed, I very much preferred that,
to the thought that the good fortune that was mine was the reward of a
grinding and ignoble perseverance. I was in no mood for the drab
virtues. I hugged the thought that it was not through my merits but
because I possessed a conquering star that I had got where I was.
Curiously enough, I had never dreamed of joining _The Spectator_
staff or even of becoming its Editor. I had imagined every other sort of
strange and sudden preferment, of frantic proprietors asking me at a
moment's notice to edit their papers, or of taking up some great and
responsible position, but never of carrying by assault 1 Wellington
Street. But that, of course, made it all the more delightful. No one
could have prepared me a greater or a more grateful surprise.
It is strange to look back and see how at this moment that mystery which
we barbarously call "the force of circumstances" seemed to have
determined not merely to drive in my nail but to hammer it up to the
head.
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