Bruce, the Pilgrim’s Progress, Hervey’s Meditations, and many other books of a somewhat motley character, cheered my solitary hours.
“After becoming acquainted with my trade, I had a board erected at my left hand, on which I fastened my book, and worked and read all day. The books in my father’s library having run out, I was obliged to borrow from some of my neighbors. One weaver in particular, who owned what I considered a splendid library, very generously offered to lend me such as I might select. Rollin’s Ancient History, in six volumes, was the first I read, and great was my delight in travelling the field through which the French historian led me. One incident occurred, however, when I had finished the fourth volume, which I feared would put an end to my delightful feast. While I was on my way with that volume under my arm to exchange it for the fifth, a dog sprang at me and made his teeth almost meet in the book. When I saw what he had done, I burst into tears and continued crying until I reached the dwelling of my kind friend.
“When I showed him how much the book was injured, ‘Oh!’ said he, ‘I am so glad that it was the book, and not your arm. It might have cost you your life. Here is the next volume.’ When he opened his bookcase and handed me the next volume, I thought that he was the most generous man I had ever known.
“A little before this, when I was about seven years old, there was an auction sale of old furniture, which, as it was a rare occurrence in the village, I attended with great interest. Towards the close of the sale, a copy of Josephus’s Works in folio, much dilapidated, and minus one of the boards of the cover, was held up by the auctioneer, and, as no one seemed to bid, I called
