At this, I was much taken aback; for bookish as I have been, I never in all my life put any thing into print, except—when a schoolmaster—a small edition of Greek epigrams from the Anthology, which I compiled from the Paris edition—and this was a failure. On recollection, I must add a Latin elegy, which my head boy made with my help on the death of Washington. It was printed at Richmond, and abounded in errors of the press, so that I was fain to suppress the edition, all but a few copies to patrons, which I corrected with a pen. But Mr. B. insisted I should jot down some of the events of my life, saying that, now in my old age, it would be a comfort to me; and that Lord Kaimes used to give this recipe to any of his friends who happened to be low-spirited—“Write a book.” He added, that it was so uncommon for an American of the old school, and a Carolinian to boot, to have been several times in Europe, and then to nestle in his quondam home on the Roanoke; that, notwithstanding a certain long-windedness, no longer modish, he was sure my scraps would find readers, if among none else, yet among my old pupils, some of whom are in Congress, besides one in a foreign legation. I therefore rigged my little craft, put up a bit of sail, and with a smart whiff of a breeze got out of sounding ere I was aware. Here goes—therefore, and I commit myself to the good will of the friends aforesaid, praying that this may be gently received in quality both of preface and dedication. H. H. CHAPTER I. “Weigh anchor; spread thy sails; call every wind, Eye thy great Pole-Star; make the land of life.” Young. The date of my birth is a secret. Time was when I used to laugh at people for being slow to tell their age; but sounder philosophy has shown me a certain wisdom in this reserve. Why should men so pry into the infirmities of their fellows? One may be gray and wrinkled without being octogenarian. Let it suffice to know that I was born a subject of George the Third, and in one of the greatest places on the noble river Roanoke, of which the name is derived from the small shell which the Indians employed as a currency. My father and mother were English, and came in middle life from the valley of the Trent, leaving their elder offspring settled in Warwickshire, where I have met their descendants. My father was an Oxford man, bred to medicine, which, however, he never practiced in America. His plantation was great, if you count the number of acres, but meager enough in arable land.