Nov, CH AREA 
family, and the unsuccessfulness 
of all endeavours to amend it, 
came crowding into my mind, 
which drove me into a deep me- 
Jancholy, and ever and anon forc- 
ed tears from my eyes.’? Dis- 
tress at last forced him to leave the 
country. His learning and virtue 
introduced him to my father; and 
at Putney he might have found at 
least a temporary shelter, had not 
an act of indiscretion again driven 
him into the world. One day 
reading prayers in the parish church, 
he most unluckily forgot the name 
of king George: his patron, a loyal 
subje&t, dismissed him with some 
reluGiance, and a decent reward ; 
and Aow the poor man ended his 
days I have never been able to 
learn. 
In my ninth year (January 
1746), in a lucid interval of com- 
-parative health, my father adopted 
the convenient and customary mode 
of English education; and J was 
sent to Kingston upon Thames, to 
a school of about seventy boys, 
which was kept by Dr. Wooddeson 
and his assistants. Every time I 
have since passed over Putney com- 
mon, I have always noticed the 
spot where my mother, as we drove 
along in the coach, admonished me 
that I was now going into the world, 
and must learn to think and aé& for 
myself, ‘Che expression may ap- 
pear ludicrous : yet there is not, in 
the course of life, a more remark- 
able change than the removal of a 
child froin Juxury and frees 
dom of a wealthy house, to the fru- 
gal diet and siriGt subordination of 
a school; from the tenderness of 
parents, and the obsequiousness of 
servants, to the rude familiarity of 
his equals, the insolent tyranny 
of his seniors, and the rod, perhaps, 
Vor, XXXVIII. 
the 
ie 
CTE RS.” > 
of a cruel and capricious peda- 
gogue. Such hardships may steel 
the mind and body against the inju. 
ries of fortune: but my timid re. 
serve was astonished by the crowd © 
and tumult of the school; the want 
of strength and a¢tivity disqualified 
me for the sports of the play-field ; 
nor have I forgotten how often in 
the year forty-six I was reviled and 
buffeted for the sins of my tory an- 
cestors. By the common methods 
of discipline, at the expence of 
many tears and some blood, | pur- 
chased the knowledge of the Latin 
syntax: and not long since I was 
possessed of the dirty volumes of 
Phedrus and Cornelius Nepos, 
which I painfully construed and. 
darkly understood. 
My studies were too frequently 
interrupted by sickness; and af. 
ter a real or nominal residence at 
Kingston-school of near two years, 
1 was finally recalled (December 
1747) by my mother’s death, which 
was occasioned in her thirty-eighth 
year, by the consequences of her 
last labour. Iwas too young to 
feel the importance of my loss ; 
and the image of her person and 
conversation is faintly imprinted 
in my memory. The affectionate 
heart of my aunt, Catherine Porten, 
bewailed a sister and a friend ; but 
my poor father was inconsolable, 
and the transport of grief seemed 
to threaten his life or his reason. 
I can never forget the scene of our 
first interview, some weeks after the 
fatal event; the awful silence, the 
room hung with black, the mid-day 
tapers, his sighs and tears; his 
praises of my mother, a saint in 
heaven ; his solemn adjuration that 
I would cherish her memory and 
imitate her virtues; and the fervor 
with which he kissed and blessed me 
¥ as 
[321 
