of that innocence my pretensions to which are regarded in
the world as incredible. There is now however little hope that I shall escape
from the toils that universally beset me. I am incited to the penning of these
memoirs, only by a desire to divert my mind from the deplorableness of my
situation, and a faint idea that posterity may by their means be induced to
render me a justice which my contemporaries refuse. My story will at least
appear to have that consistency, which is seldom attendant but upon truth.
    I was born of humble parents in a remote county of England. Their
occupations were such as usually fall to the lot of peasants, and they had no
portion to give me but an education free from the usual sources of depravity,
and the inheritance, long since lost by their unfortunate progeny! of an honest
fame. I was taught the rudiments of no science, except reading, writing and
arithmetic. But I had an inquisitive mind, and neglected no means of information
from conversation or books. My improvement was greater than my condition in life
afforded room to expect.
    There are other circumstances deserving to be mentioned as having influenced
the history of my future life. I was somewhat above the middle stature. Without
being particularly athletic in appearance or large in my dimensions, I was
uncommonly vigorous and active. My joints were supple, and I was formed to excel
in youthful sports. The habits of my mind however were to a certain degree at
war with the dictates of boyish vanity. I had considerable aversion to the
boisterous gaiety of the village gallants, and contrived to satisfy my love of
praise with an unfrequent apparition at their amusements. My excellence in these
respects however gave a turn to my meditations. I delighted to read of feats of
activity, and was particularly interested by tales in which corporeal ingenuity
or strength are the means resorted to for supplying resources and conquering
difficulties. I inured myself to mechanical pursuits, and devoted much of my
time to an endeavour after mechanical invention.
    The spring of action which, perhaps more than any other, characterised the
whole train of my life, was curiosity. It was this that gave me my mechanical
turn; I was desirous of tracing the variety of effects which might be produced
from given causes. It was this that made me a sort of natural philosopher; I
could not rest till I had acquainted myself with the solutions that had been
invented for the phenomena of the universe. In fine, this produced in me an
invincible attachment to books of narrative and romance. I panted for the
unravelling of an adventure, with an anxiety, perhaps