refolves an odd volume of the Spectator fell into my hands. This was a publication I had never feen. I bought the volume, and read it again and again. I was enchanted with it, thought the ftyle excellent, and wifhed it were in my power to imitate it. With this view I felected fome of the papers, made short fummaries of the fenfe of each period, and put them for a few days afide. I then, without looking at the book, endeavoured to restore the effays to their true form, and to exprefs each thought at length, as it was in the original, employing the most appropriate words that occurred to my mind. I afterwards compared my Spectator with the original; I perceived fome faults, which I corrected: but I found that I wanted a fund of words, if I may fo exprefs myfelf, and a facility of recollecting and employing them, which I thought I fhould by that time have acquired, had I continued to make verfes. The continual need of words of the fame meaning, but of different lengths for the meafure, or of different founds for the rhyme, would have obliged me to feek for a variety of fynonymes, and have rendered me mafter of them. From this belief, I took fome of the tales of the Spectator and turned them into verse; and after a time, when I had fufficiently forgotten them, I again converted. them into profe.

Sometimes alfo I mingled all my fummaries together; and a few weeks after, endeavoured to arrange them in the beft order, before I attempted to form the periods and complete the effays. This I did with a view of acquiring method in the arrangement of my thoughts. On comparing afterwards my performance with the original, many faults were apparent, which I corrected; but I had fometimes the fatisfaction to

think, that, in certain particulars of little importance, I had been fortunate enough to improve the order of thought or the ftyle: and this encouraged me to hope that I fhould fucceed, in time, in writing decently in the English language, which was one of the great objects of my ambition.

The time which I devoted to these exercises, and to reading, was the evening after my day's labour was finished, the morning before it began, and Sundays when I could efcape attending divine fervice. While I lived with my father, he had infifted on my punctual attendance on public worship, and I ftill indeed confidered it as a duty; but a duty which I thought I had no time to practise.

When about fixteen years of age, a work of Tryon fell into my hands, in which he recommends vegetable diet. I determined to obferve it. My brother, being a batchelor, did not keep houfe, but boarded with his apprentices in a neighbouring family. My refufing to eat animal food was found inconvenient, and I was often fcolded for my fingularity. I attended to the mode in which Tryon prepared fome of his dishés, particularly how to boil potatoes and rice, and make hafty puddings. I then faid to my brother, that if he would allow me per week half what he paid for my board, I would undertake to maintain myfelf. The offer was inftantly embraced, and I foon found that of what he gave me I was able to fave half. This was a new fund for the purchase of books; and other advantages refulted to me from the plan. When my brother and his workmen left the printinghoufe to go to dinner, I remained behind; and difpatching my frugal meal, which frequently confifted of a bifcuit only, or a flice of bread and

a bunch of raifins, or a bun from the paftrycook's}" with a glass of water, I had the rest of the time, till their return, for ftudy; and my progress therein was proportioned to that clearness of ideas, and quickness of conception, which are the fruit of temperance in eating and drinking.

It was about this period that, having one day been put to the blufh for my ignorance in the art of calculation, which I had twice failed to learn while at school, I took Cocker's Treatise of Arithmetic, and went through it by myself with the utmost ease. I alfo read a book of Navigation by Seller and Sturmy, and made myself master of the little geometry it contains, but I never proceeded far in this fcience. Nearly at the fame time I read Locke on the Human Underftanding, and the Art of Thinking by Meffrs. du Port Royal.

While labouring to form and improve my ftyle, I' met with an English Grammar, which I believe was Greenwood's, having at the end of it two little effays on rhetoric and logic. In the latter I found a model of difputation after the manner of Socrates. Shortly after I procured Xenophon's work, entitled, Memorable Things of Socrates, in which are various examples of the fame method. Charmed to a degree of enthusiasm with this mode of difputing; I adopted it, and renouneing blunt contradiction, and direct and pofitive argument, I affumed the character of a humble queftioner. The perufal of Shaftsbury and Collins had made me a fceptic; and being previously fo as to many doctrines of Christianity, I found Socrates's method to be both the fafeft for myfelf, as well as the most embarraffing to those against whom I employed it. It foon afforded me fingular pleasure; I inceffantly practifed it; and became very adroit in obtaining, even from perfons of fuperior understanding, conceffions of

which they did not forefee the confequences. Thus I involved them in difficulties from which they were unable to extricate themselves, and fometimes obtained victories, which neither my caufe nor my arguments merited.

This method I continued to employ for fome years; but I afterwards abandoned it by degrees, retaining only the habit of expreffing myself with modeft diffidence, and never making ufe, when I advanced any propofition which might be controverted, of the words certainly, undoubtedly, or any others that might give the appearance of being obftinately attached to my opinion. I rather faid, I imagine, I fuppofe, or it appears to me, that such a thing is fo or fo, for fuch and fuch reafons; or it is fo, if I am not mistaken. This habit has, I think, been of confiderable advantage to me, when I have had occafion to imprefs my opinion on the minds of others, and perfuade them to the adoption of the measures I have fuggefted. And fince the chief ends of converfation are, to inform or to be informed, to please or to perfuade, I could wifh that intelligent and wellmeaning men would not themselves diminish the power they poffefs of being useful, by a positive and prefumptuous manner of expreffing themfelves, which fcarcely ever fails to difguft the hearer, and is only calculated to excite oppofition, and defeat every purpofe for which the faculty of speech has been beftowed upon man. In fhort, if you wish to inform, a pofitive and dogmatical manner of advancing your opinion may provoke contradiction, and prevent your being heard with attention. On the other hand, if with a defire of being informed, and of benefiting by the knowledge of others, you exprefs yourself as being strongly attached to your own opinions,

modeft

modeft and fenfible men, who do not love dif putation, will leave you in tranquil poffeffion of your errors. By following fuch a method, you can rarely hope to please your auditors, conciliate their good-will, or work conviction on thofe whom you may be defirous of gaining over to your views. Pope judiciously obferves,

Men must be taught as if you taught them not,
And things unknown propos'd as things forgot.

And in the fame poem he afterwards advises us,
To speak, though fure, with feeming diffidence.

He might have added to these lines, one that he has coupled elsewhere, in my opinion, with lefs propriety. It is this:

For want of decency is want of sense.

If you ask why I fay with lefs propriety, I must give you the two lines together:

Immodeft words admit of no defence,
For want of decency is want of fenfe.

Now want of fenfe, when a man has the misfortune to be so circumstanced, is it not a kind of excuse for want of modesty? And would not the verfes have been more accurate, if they had been conftructed thus:

Immodeft words admit but this defence,
That want of decency is want of sense.

But I leave the decifion of this to better judges than myself.

In 1720, or 1721, my brother began to print a new public paper. It was the fecond that made its appearance in America, and was entitled the New-England Courant. The only one that existed before was the Boston News Letter. Some of his friends, I remember, would have diffuaded

him