Qui semel imbuerit rugas nutricis amabit.

CHAPTER III.

My female Mentor

SHALL I say which was the first book that most strongly excited my curiosity, and interested my sensibility? It was Tom Jones. tantalized me without mercy. She would let me have but one volume at a time; and not only would not afford me any clue to the concluding catastrophe, but rather put me upon a wrong scent. Sometimes too when my impatience of expectation was at the very highest point possible, the succeeding volume was mislaid, was lent, was not impossibly lost. However, after a long and most severe trial, after hating Blifil with no common hatred, forming a most friendly intimacy with Partridge, loving Sophia with rapturous extravagance, I complacently accompanied dear wicked Tom to the nuptial altar. I endeavoured of course to procure the other productions of this popular author, but I well remem. ber that I did not peruse any of them, no not within a hundred degrees of the satisfaction, which the Foundling communicated.

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The next book which chance threw in my way rendered me important service. It enlarged my mind, multiplied my ideas, inflamed my ambition, and gave my curiosity and desire of knowledge, a proper direction. I by accident picked up in a closet, little frequented, the first volume of Pope's translation of the Iliad. It was a mean edition, which I do not remember to have since seen; but it had notes and illustrations, which were to me extremely necessary. It is not possible to express the enthusiasm, with which I hurried through it, nor the anxious impatience with which I hastened to my female adviser to supply the continuation.Alas! no more volumes were to be found in the house. What was to be done? I could not endure the idea of beginning any other book. I made the attempt, indeed, but it was impossible. My mind was too elevated, to descend from gods and heroes, (from goddesses more particularly, for I adored Pallas) to the humdrum of common authors, and the incidents of ordinary life.

At length my fair friend sent for me, to communicate the joyful and momentous intelligence, that a gentleman, whose residence was a few miles distant from our own, compassionated my distress, and had promised to lend me a volume at a time, if I would take the trouble to walk and fetch them. I hardly stayed to express my thanks: it was asking a very hungry wretch, to feed on the dish most delightful to

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his palate. I was at the appointed place as expedi tiously as youthful speed could carry me. gentleman was pleased with my ardour, and kindly encouraged it. He conceived a friendship for me, and under certain very proper restrictions, accommodated me with the use of his library.

These were truly Halcyon days, for my friend was a man of taste and talents, and his collection of books proved him to be so. Under such auspices, I essentially increased my store of knowledge. I remember (and the remembrance at this very distant period is still painful) that he was absent once for an interval, to me an eternity, of almost two months. What a dreadful void, and how was I to fill it up? I had exhausted the circulating library above-mentioned, long since. I had read again and again the little library of my Mentor, when in the corner of a village shop, I discovered an odd volume of the Town and Country Magazine. Might I be permitted to borrow it? The nod of assent was a signal to me to hurry home with it as fast as possible. I did not exactly know what to make of it, but it had the charm of novelty, and occasionally at the end of each month's magazine I found some tolerable poetry. By the way, this incident induces me to mention a circumstance for which I could never satisfactorily account. I was, from the first moment of having ability to read, exceedingly fond of poetry, and almost as soon as I could write, made

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a compilation of those pieces which most suited my taste, and best pleased my fancy. I had subse quently read many popular authors, various admired specimens had been pointed out to me, many of them were indelibly engraved upon my memory. I have since composed a great deal in this branch of literature, and some of my compositions have been very favourably received. I attained afterwards a facility of versification, which seems hardly credible. I once in the course of a short day tran slated an heroic epistle from Ovid. It was printed, and has been approved by scholars. But at the period of which I am speaking, my repeated efforts to write any thing in verse, were ineffectual. My head was stored with poetical images. I had all the ardour of poetical feeling. I had scenes before me calculated to awaken and inspire any spark of genius, however latent; nay more, I fancied myself in love but still it would not do. I could not succeed. What I wrote, wanted strength and nerves, wanted rithm, wanted harmony, wanted every thing. How is this to be explained? I must suppose that I had too great an abundance of ideas, and had not the skill and judgment to arrange them.

The scenes of Elysium which I have been describing, were not doomed to last. What would I not give, once more to see the fields, and woods, and streams, through and near which, with romantic

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and unwearied step, I so often wandered, with no companions but my desultory thoughts and unsubstantial visions. Accept, beloved village, this tribute of unaffected gratitude. I left your plains with anguish-I remember them with extacy.

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A representation was made by my master, that he saw .in me, indications of qualities and talents which pointed to some better station, than that of a village apothecary, and he recommended the sphere of my education to be enlarged; that I should be removed to a great school, and finally to the university. Whether I should have been more useful to the world, or intrinsically more happy in myself, if the humbler path had been pursued which was first chalked out for me, He only knows from whom no secrets are hid. Flattering representations in favour of a beloved and only son, are seldom listened to by parents with a deaf ear; they were cordially welcomed by mine. In the shortest interval possible, the plan recommended for my future instruction, was executed.

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