It was the childhood of what we call in America a self-made man--one in which the plastic human material is rudely dealt with by circumstances.

His mother taught him his prayers, the schoolmistress his letters, necessity his daily round of duties, and for the rest he was left very much to himself and to that interior Master of whose stress and constraint upon him he grew more intimately conscious as he grew in years.

The force of this inward pressure showed itself in many ways.
Outwardly it made his manner undemonstrative, and fixed an intangible yet very real barrier between him and his kindred, even when the affection that existed was extremely close and tender.

From infancy he exhibited that repugnance to touching or being touched by any one which marked him to the end.

Even his mother refrained from embracing him, knowing this singular aversion.