ed at this time but one book in the world: it was a treatise on
algebra, given to me by a young woman, who had found it in a
lodging-house. I considered it as a treasure; but it was a treasure
locked up: for it supposed the reader to be well acquainted with simple
equation, and I knew nothing of the matter. My master's son had
purchased Fenning's Introduction: this was precisely what I wanted; but
he carefully concealed it from me, and I was indebted to chance alone
for stumbling upon his hiding-place. I sat up for the greatest part of
several nights successively, and, before he suspected that his treatise
was discovered, had completely mastered it. I could now enter upon my
own; and that carried me pretty far into the science.

This was not done without difficulty. I had not a farthing on earth, nor
a friend to give me one; pen, ink, and paper, therefore, in despite of
the flippant remark of lord Orford, were, for the most part, as
completely out of my reach, as a crown and sceptre. There was, indeed, a
resource; but the utmost caution and secrecy were necessary in applying
to it. I beat out pieces of leather as smooth as possible, and wrought
my problems on them with a blunted awl; for the rest my memory was
tenacious, and I could multiply and divide by it to a great extent.

Hitherto I had not so much as dreamt of poetry: indeed I scarce knew it
by name; and, whatever may be said of the force of nature, I certainly
never "lisp'd in numbers." I recollect the occasion of my first attempt:
it is, like all the rest of my non-adventures, of so unimportant a
nature, that I should blush to call the attention of the idlest reader
to it, but for the reason alleged in the introductory paragraph. A
person, whose name escapes me, had undertaken to paint a sign for an
alehouse: it was to be a lion, but the unfortunate artist produced a
dog. On this awkward affair one of my acquaintance wrote a copy of what
we called verse; I liked it, but fancied I could compose something more
to the purpose: I tried, and by the unanimous suffrage of my shop-mates
was allowed to have succeeded. Notwithstanding this encouragement, I
thought no more of verse, till another occurrence, as trifling as the
former, furnished me with a fresh subject; and so I went on, till I had
got together about a dozen of them. Certainly nothing on earth was ever
so deplorable: such as they were, however, they were talked of in my
little circle, and I was sometimes in