way to excellent production. But, though of these I was
utterly destitute, my propensities had always led me in this direction; and my
early thirst of knowledge had conducted me to a more intimate acquaintance with
books, than could perhaps have been expected under my circumstances. If my
literary pretensions were slight, the demand I intended to make upon them was
not great. All I asked was a subsistence, and I was persuaded few persons could
subsist upon slenderer means than myself. I also considered this as a temporary
expedient, and hoped that accident or time might hereafter place me in a less
precarious situation. The reasons that principally determined my choice, were
that this employment called upon me for the least preparation, and could, as I
thought, be exercised with least observation.
    There was a solitary woman of middle age, who tenanted a chamber in this
house upon the same floor with my own. I had no sooner determined upon the
destination of my industry, than I cast my eye upon her as the possible
instrument for disposing of my productions. Excluded as I was from all
intercourse with my species in general, I found pleasure in the occasional
exchange of a few words with this inoffensive and good-humoured creature, who
was already of an age to preclude scandal. She lived upon a very small annuity
allowed her by a distant relation, a woman of quality, who, possessed of
thousands herself, had no other anxiety with respect to this person, than that
she should not contaminate her alliance by the exertion of honest industry. This
humble creature was of a uniformly chearful and active disposition, unacquainted
alike with the cares of wealth, and the pressure of misfortune. Though her
pretensions were small, and her information slender, she was by no means
deficient in penetration. She remarked the faults and follies of mankind with no
contemptible discernment; but her temper was of so mild and forgiving a cast, as
would have induced most persons to believe that she perceived nothing of the
matter. Her heart overflowed with the milk of kindness. She was sincere and
ardent in her attachments, and never did she omit a service which she perceived
herself able to render to a human being.
    Had it not been for these qualifications of temper, I should probably have
found that my appearance, that of a deserted, solitary lad of Jewish extraction,
effectually precluded my demands upon her kindness. But I speedily perceived,
from her manner of receiving and returning civilities of an indifferent sort,
that her heart was too noble, to have its effusions checked by any base and
unworthy considerations. Encouraged by these preliminaries