apprentice in the office. His diligence and good behaviour recommended him to his master's employers. Whenever any work was brought, Forester was sent for. This occasioned him to be much in the shop, where he heard the conversation of many ingenious men, who frequented it; and he spent his evenings in reading. His understanding had been of late uncultivated; but the fresh seeds, that were now profusely scattered upon the vigorous soil, took root, and flourished.

Forester was just at that time of life, when opinions are valued for being new; he heard varieties of the most contradictory assertions, in morals, in medicine, in politics. It is a great advantage to a young man, to hear opposite arguments; to hear all that can be said upon every subject.

Forester no longer obstinately adhered to the set of notions, which he had acquired from his education: he heard many, whom he could not think his inferiors in abilities, debating questions, which he formerly imagined scarcely admitted of philosophic doubt. His mind became more humble; but his confidence in his own powers, after having compared himself with numbers, if less arrogant, was more secure and rational: he no longer considered a man as a fool, the moment he differed with him in opinion; but he was still a little inclined, to estimate the abilities of authors, by the party to which they belonged. This failing was increased, rather than diminished, by the company which he now kept.

Amongst the young students, who frequented 's, the bookseller, was Mr. Thomas

Mr.

, who, from his habit of blurting out strange opinions in conversation, acquired the name of Tom Random. His head was confused between politics aud poetry; his arguments were paradoxical, his diction florid, and his gesture something

between the spouting action of a player, and the threatening action of a pugilist.

Forester was immediately caught by theoratory of this genius, from the first day he heard him speak.

Tom Random asserted, that "this great globe,' and all that it inhabits," must inevitably be doomed. to destruction, unless certain ideas of his own, in the government of the world, were immediately adopted by universal acclamation.

It was not approbation, it was not esteem, which Forester felt for his new friend; it was for the first week blind, enthusiastic admiration-every thing that he had seen or heard before appeared to him trite and obsolete; every person, who spoke temperate common sense, he heard with indifference or contempt; and all who were not zealots in literature, or in politics, he considered as persons, whose understandings were so narrow, or whose hearts were so depraved, as to render them "unfit to hear themselves convinced."

Those who read, and converse, have a double chance of correcting their errors.

Forester, most fortunately, about this time," happened to meet with a book, which in some degree counteracted the inflammatory effects of Random's conversation, and which had a happy tendency to sober his enthusiasm, without lessening his propensity to useful exertions. This book was the life of Dr. Franklin*.

The idea, that this great man began by being a printer, interested our hero in his history; and whilst he followed him, step by step, through his instructing narrative, Forester sympathized in his

* An elegant edition of the Life and Writings of Dr. Franklin, embellished with a fine portrait, is (we are informed) in the press, and will appear in a few days.

feelings, and observed how necessary the smaller virtues of order, economy, industry, and patience, were to Franklin's great character and splendid success. He began to hope, that it would be possible to do good to his fellow-creatures, without overturning all existing institutions.

About this time, another fortunate coincidence happened in Forester's education.-One evening, his friend, Tom Random, who was printing a pamphlet, came with a party of his companions,. into Mr. the bookseller's shop, enraged at the decision of a prize in a literary society, to which they belonged.

All the young partizans, who surrounded Mr. Random, loudly declared, that he had been treated with the most flagrant injustice, and the author himself was too angry, to affect any modesty upon the occasion.

"Would you believe it," said he to Forester66 my essay has not been thought worthy of the prize!-The nedal has been given to the most wretched, tame, common-place performance, you ever saw. Every thing in this world is done by corruption, by party, by secret influence!"

At every pause, the irritated author wiped his forehead, and Forester sympathized in his feelings.

In the midst of the author's exclamations, a messenger came with the manuscript of the prize essay, and with the orders of the society, to have a certain number of copies printed off with all possible expedition.

Random snatched up the manuscript; and with all the fury of criticism, began to read some of the passages, which he disliked aloud.

Though it was marred in the reading, Forester could not agree with his angry friend, in condemning the performance.-It appeared to him excellent writing, and excellent sense.

"Print it-print it, then, as fast as you can that is your business-that's what you are paid for. Every one for himself," cried Random, insolently throwing the manuscript to Forester; and as he flung out of the shop, with his companions, he added, with a contemptuous laugh, "A printer's devil setting up for a critic! He may be a capital judge of pica and roman, perhaps But let not the compositor go beyond his stick."

"Is this the man," said Forester," whom I have heard so eloquent in the praise of candour and liberality? Is this the man, who talks of universal toleration, and freedom of opinion, and who yet cannot bear, that any one should differ from him in criticising a sentence? Is this the man, who would have equality amongst all his fellow creatures, and who calls a compositor a printer's devil! Is this the man, who cants about the pre-eminence of mind, and the perfections of intellect, who takes advantage of his rank, of his supporters, of the cry of his partizans, to bear down the voice of reason?

Let not the compositor go beyond his composing stick. And why not? why should not he be a judge of writing?" At this reflection, Forester eagerly took up the manuscript, which had been flung at his feet. All his indignant feelings instantly changed into delightful exultation-he saw the hand-he read the name of Henry Campbell. The title of the manuscript was, " An Essay on the best Methods of reforming Abuses." This was the subject proposed by the society; and Henry had written upon the question with so much moderation, and yet, with such unequivocal decision, had shown himself the friend of rational liberty, that all the members of the society, who were not born away by their prejudices, were unanimous in their preference of this performance.

Random's declamation only inflamed the minds of his own partizans. Good judges of writing

exclaimed, as they read it-" This is all very fine but what would this man be at? His violence hurts the cause he wishes to support."

Forester read Henry Campbell's essay with all the avidity of friendships he read it again and again-his generous soul was incapable of envy, and whilst he admired, he was convinced by the force of reason.

His master desired, that he would set about the the essay early in the morning; but his eagerness for his friend Henry's fame was such, that he sat up above half the night, hard at work at it. He was indefatigable the next day at the business; and, as all hands were employed on the essay, it was finished that evening.

Forester rubbed his hands with delight, when he had set the name of Henry Campbell in the titlepage- -But an instant afterward he sighed bitterly.

"I am only a printer," said he to himself. "These just arguments, these noble ideas, will instruct and charm hundreds of my fellow-creatures; no one will ever ask- Who set the types?'

His reflections were interrupted by the entrance of Tom Random and two of his partizans: he was extremely displeased to find, that the printers had not been going on with his pamphlet ; his personal disappointments seemed to increase the acrimony of Lis zeal for the public good-he declaimed upon politics-upon the necessity for the immediate publication of his sentiments, for the salvation of the state. His action was suited to his words-violent and blind to consequences, with one sudden kick, designed to express his contempt for the opposite party, this political Alnaschar unfortunately overturned the form, which contained the types for the newspaper of the next day, which was just going to the press, a newspaper in which he had written splendid paragraphs.

Forester, happily for his philosophy, recollected