upon every thing mysterious or unknown.

My father intended that my knowledge should keep pace with
that of my brother, but conceived that all beyond the mere capacity
to write and read was useless or pernicious. He took as much pains
to keep me within these limits, as to make the acquisitions of my
brother come up to them, but his efforts were not equally
successful in both cases. The most vigilant and jealous scrutiny
was exerted in vain: Reproaches and blows, painful privations and
ignominious penances had no power to slacken my zeal and abate my
perseverance. He might enjoin upon me the most laborious tasks,
set the envy of my brother to watch me during the performance, make
the most diligent search after my books, and destroy them without
mercy, when they were found; but he could not outroot my darling
propensity. I exerted all my powers to elude his watchfulness.
Censures and stripes were sufficiently unpleasing to make me strive
to avoid them. To effect this desirable end, I was incessantly
employed in the invention of stratagems and the execution of
expedients.

My passion was surely not deserving of blame, and I have
frequently lamented the hardships to which it subjected me; yet,
perhaps, the claims which were made upon my ingenuity and fortitude
were not without beneficial effects upon my character.

This contention lasted from the sixth to the fourteenth year
of my age. My father's opposition to my schemes was incited by a
sincere though unenlightened desire for my happiness. That all his
efforts were secretly eluded or obstinately repelled, was a source
of the bitterest regret. He has often lamented, with tears, what