bed and to anticipate the rising of the sun. When the moonlight
was strong enough to permit me to read, it was my custom to escape
from bed, and hie with my book to some neighbouring eminence, where
I would remain stretched on the mossy rock, till the sinking or
beclouded moon, forbade me to continue my employment. I was
indebted for books to a friendly person in the neighbourhood, whose
compliance with my solicitations was prompted partly by benevolence
and partly by enmity to my father, whom he could not more
egregiously offend than by gratifying my perverse and pernicious
curiosity.

In leaving my chamber I was obliged to use the utmost caution
to avoid rousing my brother, whose temper disposed him to thwart me
in the least of my gratifications. My purpose was surely laudable,
and yet on leaving the house and returning to it, I was obliged to
use the vigilance and circumspection of a thief.

One night I left my bed with this view. I posted first to my
vocal glen, and thence scrambling up a neighbouring steep, which
overlooked a wide extent of this romantic country, gave myself up
to contemplation, and the perusal of Milton's Comus.

My reflections were naturally suggested by the singularity of
this echo. To hear my own voice speak at a distance would have
been formerly regarded as prodigious. To hear too, that voice, not
uttered by another, by whom it might easily be mimicked, but by
myself! I cannot now recollect the transition which led me to the
notion of sounds, similar to these, but produced by other means
than reverberation. Could I not so dispose my organs as to make my
voice appear at a distance?