I was educated for the church, but my father died while I was at college, and I lost the curacy, which was in the gift of my uncle, through the pretty face of a city merchant's daughter, who wrote a sonnet to my worthy relative on his recovery from a fit of the gout, and obtained the curacy for her brother in exchange for her effusion. What was to be done? I offered myself as tutor to a young gentleman who was to study the classics until he was of age, and then to turn fox-hunter to supply the place of his deceased father; but I was considered by his relations to be too good-looking to be domesticated in the house of a rich widow under fifty, and I had the satisfaction of seeing the vacant seat in the family coach filled by an old, sandy-haired M.A., with bow legs and a squint--handsome or ugly, it availed not; a face had twice ruined my prospects; I was at my wit's end! I could not turn fine gentleman, for I had not brass enough to make my veracity a pander to my voracity; I could not turn tradesman, for I had not gold enough even to purchase a yard measure, or to lay in a stock of tapes. My heart bounded at the idea of the army; but I thought of it like a novice--of wounds and gallant deeds; of fame and laurels; I was obliged to look closer--my relations were neither noblemen nor bankers, and I found that even the Colonial corps were becoming aristocratical and profuse; the navy--I walked from London to Chatham on speculation; saw the second son of an earl covered with tar, out at elbows and at heels, and I returned to town, fully satisfied that here I certainly had no chance. I offered myself as clerk to a wealthy brewer, and, at length, I was accepted-- this was an opening! I registered malt, hops, ale, and small-beer, till I began to feel as though the world was one vast brewhouse; and calculated, added, and subtracted pounds, shillings, and pence, until all other lore appeared "stale, flat, and unprofitable." I was in this counting-house four years, and was, finally, discharged by my prudent principal as an unthrifty servant, for having, during a day of unusual business, cut up two entire quills, and overturned the inkstand on a new ledger! Again "the world was all before me where to choose"--but enough of this; suffice it that my choice availed me nothing, and after years of struggling and striving, I found myself, as free as air, in a small market town in England, with five shillings in my pocket, and sundry grey hairs on my head. From mere dearth of occupation, I took my station at the window of a small stationer's shop, and commenced a survey of the volumes and pamphlets which were attractively opened at the title-pages to display their highly coloured frontispieces. The first which I noticed was, "The Young Gentleman's Multiplication Table, or Two and Two make Four"--I sighed as I remembered how little this promising study had availed _me_! Then came "Little Tom Tucker, he sang for his Supper"--I would have danced for one.