‘Thus far my infantine life had passed under much more favourable
circumstances than are common to the children of the poor. But, when I
was about six years old, the scene suddenly changed, a long train of
increasing hardships began, and I have no doubt my sufferings were
rendered more severe from a consciousness of the little I had suffered
till then. This may therefore be properly considered as the first
remarkable era in my life.
‘How far the state of my father’s affairs might contribute to the steps
he took, is more than I now can tell: but on a sudden the house-keeping
broke up, the horses were sold, and we went into Berkshire, somewhere
beyond Ascot Heath, about thirty miles from London, where my father had
taken a house. What became of his effects, in what manner they were
sold, and of every circumstance of that kind, I am totally ignorant.
‘I suppose the time of our residence in Berkshire to have been about
twelve months. The house where we lived, was situated at the corner of
the road, the last of a small Green, or Common, down which the road had
a descent. For I remember my father at first had a tall, high-boned
hack, on the bare back of which I used by his order to gallop down the
hill, though I felt great difficulty in keeping my seat. It was in this
retired spot that my father himself began to teach me to read. The task
at first I found difficult, till the idea one day suddenly seized me of
catching all the sounds I had been taught from the arrangement of the
letters; and my joy at this amazing discovery was so great, that the
recollection of it has never been effaced. After that, my progress was
so rapid, that it astonished my father. He boasted of me to every body;
and that I might lose no time, the task he set me was eleven chapters a
day in the Old Testament. I might indeed have deceived my father by
skipping some of the chapters, but a dawning regard for truth, aided by
the love I had of reading, and the wonderful histories I sometimes found
in the Sacred Writings, generally induced me to go through the whole of
my task. One day as I was sitting at the gate with my Bible in my hand,
a neighbouring farmer, coming to see my father, asked me if I could read
the Bible already? I answered, yes; and he desired me to let him hear
me. I began at the place where the book was open, read fluently, and
afterwards told him, that if he pleased, he should hear the tenth
chapter of Nehemiah. At this he seemed still more amazed, and wishing to
be convinced, bade me read. After listening till he found I could really
pronounce the uncouth Hebrew names so much better and more easily than
he supposed to be within the power of so young a child, he patted my
head, gave me a penny, and said I was an uncommon boy. It would be hard
to say whether his praise or his gift was most flattering to me. Soon
after, my father’s apprentice, the kind-hearted Dick, who came backward
and forward to my father on his affairs, brought me the two delightful
histories I have above-mentioned, which were among those then called
Chapman’s Books. It was scarcely possible for any thing to have been
more grateful to me than this present. Parismus and Parismenos, with all
the adventures detailed in the Seven Champions of Christendom, were soon
as familiar to me as my catechism, or the daily prayers I repeated
kneeling before my father. Oh, how I loved poor Dick!
‘My father was an excellent pedestrian, and would often walk to London
and back again, more than sixty miles, in the same day. Sometimes he
dined at home, and went to London in the afternoon; and even then, I
rather think, though I cannot be certain, that he made a point of
sleeping in his own house. In height he was about five feet four,
perfectly free from corpulency, sober, and satisfied with plain,
wholesome diet. He used to speak with great self-complacency of the
manner in which he overcame competitors in walking, with whom he
sometimes chanced to meet. “I have been overtaken by tall men,” he would
say, “with whom I could not keep pace, and they have bid me good bye,
and told me they should be in London at such a time before me: but they
were every one of them mistaken. They could not proceed without stopping
to rest, and taking their pint of beer, their bread and cheese, or
whatever they could get to eat and drink. I was never far behind them, I
wanted nothing to eat or drink, I was not weary, I passed the houses in
which they were sitting, and got forward sometimes more than a mile
before them; while they would make another call, perhaps, and another,
so that I always arrived before them.”
‘One afternoon, however, he was desirous of going to town at a later
hour than usual, and therefore, for expedition’s sake, he borrowed a
light grey horse of a neighbour, on condition that it should be returned
that evening. He then mounted, and placed me behind him, trusting to my
courage and good sense for finding my way home with the horse. I know
not how far he took me, except that we passed over some part of Ascot
Heath, if not all of it; and about an hour before it was dark, he
alighted, left me on horse-back, and carefully gave me such directions
as he supposed I could not mistake. In this he conjectured rightly; I
began to trot away, anxious to get home before it was too dark; but
unluckily for me, some time after we had parted, with no human being in
sight, nor any likelihood of meeting one, the horse stumbled among some
ruts, and threw my hat off. To have lost my hat would have been a
terrible misfortune; I therefore ventured to alight and pick it up. Then
it was that I perceived my distress. I found every attempt I made to
remount wholly ineffectual, and all I could do was to endeavour to drag
the sluggish animal along, and cry bitterly. Twilight was fast
approaching, and I alone on the heath, (I knew not how far from home),
and never expecting to reach that desired place that evening. At length,
however, the white railing of the Race Course on Ascot Heath came in
sight, and I conceived hopes of remounting. Accordingly I with great
difficulty prevailed on my grey nag to stand tolerably nigh the railing,
on which I clambered, and with almost unspeakable joy I found myself
once more seated on his back. I had another piece of good fortune; for,
before I had gone far, a neighbour happened to be passing, who, seeing a
child so circumstanced, came up, asked me some questions, heard the
story I had to tell, and not only conveyed me safe to the village, but
to his own house, where he gave me something comfortable to eat and
drink, sent the horse to its right owner, and put me into the charge of
some one, who took me home.[1]
‘I know nothing that tends so much as the anecdotes of childhood, when
faithfully recorded, to guide the philosopher through that very abstruse
but important labyrinth, the gradations that lead to the full stature,
peculiar form, temperament, character, and qualities of the man. I am
therefore anxious to recount all those concerning myself, which I
suppose may conduce to this purpose.
‘My father was very fond, and not a little vain, of me. He delighted to
shew how much I was superior to other children, and this propensity had
sometimes a good effect. One evening when it was quite dark, daylight
having entirely disappeared, and the night being cloudy, he was boasting
to a neighbour of my courage; and his companion seeming rather to doubt,
my father replied, he would put it immediately to the proof. “Tom,” said
he, “you must go to the house of Farmer such a one,” (I well remember
the walk, but not the name of the person,) “and ask whether he goes to
London to morrow.” I was startled, but durst not dispute his authority,
it was too great over me, besides that my vanity to prove my valor was
not a little excited: accordingly I took my hat, and immediately obeyed.
‘The house I was sent to, as far as I can remember, must have been
between a quarter and half a mile distant; and the road that led to it,
was by the side of the hedge on the left hand of the Common. However, I
knew the way well enough, and proceeded; but it was with many stops,
starts, and fears. It may be proper to observe here, that although I
could not have been without courage, yet I was really, when a child,
exceedingly apprehensive, and full of superstition. When I saw magpies,
it denoted good or ill luck, according as they did or did not cross me.
When walking, I pored for pins, or rusty nails; which, if they lay in
certain directions, foreboded some misfortune. Many such whims possessed
my brain—I was therefore not at all free from notions of this kind, on
the present occasion. However, I went forward on my errand, humming,
whistling, and looking as carefully as I could; now and then making a
false step, which helped to relieve me, for it obliged me to attend to
the road. When I came to the farm-house, I delivered my message. “Bless
me, child,” cried the people within, “have you come, this dark night,
all alone?” “Oh yes,” I said, assuming an air of self-consequence. “And
who sent you?” “My father wanted to _know_,” I replied equivocally. One
of them then offered to take me home, but of this I would by no means
admit. My whole little stock of vanity was roused, and I hastily
scampered out of the house, and was hidden in the dark. My return was
something, but not much less alarming than my journey thither. At last I
got safely home, glad to be rid of my fears, and inwardly not a little
elated with my success. “Did you hear or see any body, Tom,” said my
father, “as you went or came back?” “No,” said I, “it was quite dark;
not but I thought once or twice, I did hear something behind me.” In
fact, it was my father and his companion, who had followed me at a
little distance. This, my father, in fondly praising me for my courage,
some time after told me.