My Nurse could not choose, when I was but Seven years old, but take notice of many things I committed, for which she severely chastis’d me, endeavouring to stop me in my first proceedings, knowing my pretty Rogueries had their rise from an inclination to all manner of Vice. Above all things I loved all sorts of strong Liquors, not that anything accounted pleasurable, could go amiss with me; for how could it otherwise be, since my Parents, (as I have been informed) studied only how to enjoy their Heaven here, by enjoying what was agreeable most to sence; and therefore I could not be unlike them, who was the absolute extract of no common delights. I say I loved in an extraordinary measure, whatsoever was strong, yet being too young, and so could not drink for the sake of good company, I would greedily drink for its own sake, and that I might procure my satisfaction that way, I found frequent opportunities to steal small parcels out of my Nurses Purse when she was asleep, and then pretending that she sent me for Ale, would drink it by the way; Any small trivial thing, as a Knife, &c. in any House wherever I came, I instantly seiz’d them as my proper Goods and Chattels, and converted them to the use aforesaid: I had a very good convenience of a Bawdy-house not above a Musquet shot from our House; the well disposed Matron thereof, would not only receive what I brought, but would give me half as much Ale as it was worth, besides her blessing, (curse be upon it, I never thriv’d since I had it,) the breath of her best wishes being enough to blast the most promising hopes, that ever yet aspiring Youth entertain’d within his breast; Nay, she told me I was her white Boy, instructed and encouraged me in the Art of theevery, telling me the welcomer I was, the oftner I came. By this means I began to know what it was to keep Company, her Wenches being my initiators, by whose help and my forward endeavours, I commenced Master of Art, before I could sum up Twelve years; I soon became Professor of that deep Mystery, and could when occasion served not, swear mouthingly, (which others call gracefully,) looking impudently, talk impertinently, or imprudently, drink profoundly, and smoak everlastingly. I had got a trick to laugh at every thing, because I would not be accounted morose, or phlegmatick; The melancholy man is a thing by itself, differing from the whole creation; in which every individual _species_ loves either an intercourse in converse, or amicable Society. That humour certainly was spawned by the Devil if it be true (as it is affirmed) that all Vices take their Original from Melancholy: on the contrary, what fault can he commit, whilst he is laughing, and merry, that deserves so much as the knitting of a Brow? Not that I will excuse my self; for my laughter was immoderate, and unseasonable, things so offensively ridiculous to any wise man, (as I have considered since) that it were better to be