?Milton?s miscellaneous works were still my favourites. I copied many of his poems into a writing book, and this I did, not only an account of the pleasure which I felt in their repetition, and in the appropriation ? so to speak ? of the ideas, but also as a means for improvement of my handwriting, which had continued to be very indifferent. The "Odyssey" and "Aeniad", which I also procured and read about this time, seemed tame and languid, whilst the stirring call of the old Iliadic battle trumpet was ringing in my ears, and vibrating within my heart. In short, I read or attentively conned [sic] over, every book I could buy or borrow, and as I retained a pretty clear idea of what I read, I became rather more than commonly proficient in book knowledge considering that I was only a better sort of porter in a warehouse.'