I know there are readers in the world, as well as many other good people in it, who are no readers at all, who find themselves ill at ease, unless they are let into the whole secret from first to last, of everything which concerns you.
It is in pure compliance with this humour of theirs, and from a backwardness in my nature to disappoint any one soul living, that I have been so very particular already. As my life and opinions are likely to make some noise in the world, and, if I conjecture right, will take in all ranks, professions, and denominations of men whatever, --be no less read than the _Pilgrim's Progress_ itself--and in the end, prove the very thing which _Montaigne_ dreaded his Essays should turn out, that is, a book for a parlour-window; --I find it necessary to consult every one a little in his turn; and therefore must beg pardon for going on a little farther in the same way: For which cause, right glad I am, that I have begun the history of myself in the way I have done; and that I am able to go on, tracing everything in it, as _Horace_ says, _ab Ovo_.
_Horace_, I know, does not recommend this fashion altogether: But that gentleman is speaking only of an epic poem or a tragedy; --(I forget which), --besides, if it was not so, I should beg Mr. _Horace's_ pardon; --for in writing what I have set about, I shall confine myself neither to his rules, nor to any man's rules that ever lived.
To such, however, as do not choose to go so far back into these things, I can give no better advice, than that they skip over the remaining part of this chapter; for I declare before-hand, 'tis wrote only for the curious and inquisitive.
------------Shut the door. -------------------------------------- I was begot in the night, betwixt the first _Sunday_ and the first _Monday_ in the month of _March_, in the year of our Lord one thousand seven hundred and eighteen. I am positive I was. --But how I came to be so very particular in my account of a thing which happened before I was born, is owing to another small anecdote known only in our own family, but now made publick for the better clearing up this point.

I know there are readers who find themselves ill at ease unless they are let into the whole secret, from first to last, of everything which concerns you.
It is in order not to disappoint them that I have been so very particular already. As my life and opinions are likely to make some noise in the world, and will be no less read than the Pilgrim's Progress itself, I must beg pardon for going on a little further in the same way. Right glad I am, that I have begun the history of myself like this; tracing everything, as Horace says, ab Ovo, or from the Egg.
Horace, I know, does not recommend this fashion altogether: but he is speaking of an epic poem or a tragedy (I forget which); - besides, begging Mr. Horace's pardon, I shall confine myself neither to his rules, nor to any other man's.
To those, however, who do not choose to go so far back, I can only advise that they skip over the rest of this chapter; for 'tis wrote only for the curious and inquisitive.
------Shut the door. -----
I was begot in the night betwixt the first Sunday and the first Monday of March, 1718. I am positive I was, owing to another small anecdote known only in our family, but now made public to clear up this point.
