“Singula de nobis anni praedantur euntes.”

          ["Of the fleeting years each steals something from me.” 
          —­Horace, Ep., ii. 2.]

Agility and address I never had, and yet am the son of a very active and sprightly father, who continued to be so to an extreme old age.  I have scarce known any man of his condition, his equal in all bodily exercises, as I have seldom met with any who have not excelled me, except in running, at which I was pretty good.  In music or singing, for which I have a very unfit voice, or to play on any sort of instrument, they could never teach me anything.  In dancing, tennis, or wrestling, I could never arrive to more than an ordinary pitch; in swimming, fencing, vaulting, and leaping, to none at all.  My hands are so clumsy that I cannot even write so as to read it myself, so that I had rather do what I have scribbled over again, than take upon me the trouble to make it out.  I do not read much better than I write, and feel that I weary my auditors otherwise (I am) not a bad clerk.  I cannot decently fold up a letter, nor could ever make a pen, or carve at table worth a pin, nor saddle a horse, nor carry a hawk and fly her, nor hunt the dogs, nor lure a hawk, nor speak to a horse.  In fine, my bodily qualities are very well suited to those of my soul; there is nothing sprightly, only a full and firm vigour:  I am patient enough of labour and pains, but it is only when I go voluntary to work, and only so long as my own desire prompts me to it: 

          “Molliter austerum studio fallente laborem.”

          ["Study softly beguiling severe labour.” 
          —­Horace, Sat., ii. 2, 12.]

otherwise, if I am not allured with some pleasure, or have other guide than my own pure and free inclination, I am good for nothing:  for I am of a humour that, life and health excepted, there is nothing for which I will bite my nails, and that I will purchase at the price of torment of mind and constraint: 

                         “Tanti mihi non sit opaci
          Omnis arena Tagi, quodque in mare volvitur aurum.”

     ["I would not buy rich Tagus sands so dear, nor all the gold that
     lies in the sea.”—­Juvenal, Sat., iii. 54.]

Extremely idle, extremely given up to my own inclination both by nature and art, I would as willingly lend a man my blood as my pains.  I have a soul free and entirely its own, and accustomed to guide itself after its own fashion; having hitherto never had either master or governor imposed upon me:  I have walked as far as I would, and at the pace that best pleased myself; this is it that has rendered me unfit for the service of others, and has made me of no use to any one but myself.

Nor was there any need of forcing my heavy and lazy disposition; for being born to such a fortune as I had reason to be contented with (a reason, nevertheless, that a thousand others of my acquaintance would have rather made use of for a plank upon which to pass over in search of higher fortune, to tumult and disquiet), and with as much intelligence as I required, I sought for no more, and also got no more: