who seemed to desire it: for, if good, I might profit by his instruction; if bad, he might be assisted by mine. I found this to be a knowing man, of strong unlettered sense, but a thorough knowledge of the 5 world, as it is called, or, more properly speaking, of human nature on the wrong side. He asked me if I had taken care to provide myself with a bed, which was a circumstance I had never once attended to.

"That's unfortunate," cried he, "as you are 10 allowed here nothing but straw, and your apartment is very large and cold. However, you seem to be something of a gentleman, and, as I have been one myself in my time, part of my bed-clothes are heartily at your service."

15

I thanked him, professing my surprise at finding such humanity, in a gaol, in misfortunes; adding, to let him see that I was a scholar, "That the sage ancient seemed to understand the value of company in affliction, when he said, Ton kosmon, aire ei dos 20 ton etairon; and, in fact," continued I, "what is the world if it affords only solitude?"

"You talk of the world, Sir," returned my fellow-prisoner, "the world is in its dotage; and yet the cosmogony, or creation of the world, has puzzled 25 the philosophers of every age. What a medley of opinions have they not broached upon the creation of the world? Sanconiathon, Manetho, Berosus, and Ocellus Lucanus have all attempted it in vain. The latter has these words, Anarchon ara kai atelu

30 taion to pan: which implies," "I ask your pardon, Sir," cried I, "for interrupting so much learn

ing; but I think I have heard all this before.

Have

I not had the pleasure of once seeing you at Wellbridge fair, and is not your name Ephraim Jenkinson?" At this demand he only sighed. "I suppose you must recollect," resumed I, "one Doctor 5 Primrose, from whom you bought a horse."

He now at once recollected me; for the gloominess of the place, and the approaching night, had prevented his distinguishing my features before. "Yes, Sir," returned Mr. Jenkinson, "I remember 10 you perfectly well; I bought a horse, but forgot to pay for him. Your neighbour Flamborough is the only prosecutor I am any way afraid of at the next assizes; for he intends to swear positively against me as a coiner. I am heartily sorry, Sir, I ever de- 15 ceived you, or indeed any man; for you see," continued he, showing me his shackles, "what my tricks. have brought me to."

"Well, Sir," replied I, "your kindness in offering me assistance, when you could expect no return, 20 shall be repaid by my endeavours to soften, or totally suppress Mr. Flamborough's evidence, and I will send my son to him for that purpose the first opportunity; nor do I in the least doubt but he will comply with my request; and as to my own evidence, 25 you need be under no uneasiness about that."

"Well, Sir," cried he, "all the return I can make shall be yours. You shall have more than half my bed-clothes to-night, and I'll take care to stand your friend in the prison, where I think I have some influ- 30 ence."

I thanked him, and could not avoid being surprised at the present youthful change in his aspect; for at the time I had seen him before, he appeared at least sixty. "Sir," answered he, "you are little 5 acquainted with the world: I had at that time false hair, and have learned the art of counterfeiting every age from seventeen to seventy. Ah! Sir, had I but bestowed half the pains in learning a trade, that I have in learning to be a scoundrel, 10 I might have been a rich man at this day. But, rogue as I am, still I may be your friend, and that perhaps when you least expect it."

We were now prevented from farther conversation by the arrival of the gaoler's servants, who came to 15 call over the prisoners' names, and lock up for the night. A fellow also, with a bundle of straw for my bed, attended, who led me along a dark narrow passage into a room paved like the common prison, and in one corner of this I spread my bed, and the 20 clothes given me by my fellow-prisoner; which done, my conductor, who was civil enough, bade me a good night. After my usual meditations, and having praised my heavenly corrector, I laid myself down, and slept with the utmost tranquillity till 25 morning.

CHAPTER XXVI

A REFORMATION IN THE GAOL. то MAKE LAWS COMPLETE, THEY SHOULD REWARD AS WELL AS PUNISH

THE next morning early, I was awakened by the family, whom I found in tears at my bed-side. The gloomy strength of every thing about us, it seems, had daunted them. I gently rebuked their sorrow, assuring them I had never slept with greater tran- 5 quillity, and next enquired after my eldest daughter, who was not among them. They informed me that yesterday's uneasiness and fatigue had increased her fever, and it was judged proper to leave her behind. My next care was to send my son to procure 10 a room or two to lodge the family in, as near the prison as conveniently could be found. He obeyed; but could only find one apartment, which was hired at a small expense, for his mothers and sisters; the gaoler, with humanity, consenting to let him and 15 his two little brothers lie in the prison with me. A bed was therefore prepared for them in a corner of the room, which, I thought, answered very conveniently. I was willing, however, previously to know whether my little children chose to lie in a 20 place which seemed to fright them upon entrance.

"Well," cried I, "my good boys, how do you like your bed? I hope you are not afraid to lie in this room, dark as it appears."

"No, papa," says Dick, "I am not afraid to lie any where where you are."

"And I," says Bill, who was yet but four years old, "love every place best that my papa is in.”

5 After this I allotted to each of the family what they were to do. My daughter was particularly directed to watch her declining sister's health; my wife was to attend me; my little boys were to read to me; "And as for you, my son," continued I, 10 "it is by the labour of your hands we must all hope to be supported. Your wages, as a day-labourer, will be fully sufficient, with proper frugality, to maintain us all, and comfortably too. Thou art now sixteen years old, and hast strength, and it was 15 given thee, my son, for very useful purposes: for it must save from famine your helpless parents and family. Prepare then, this evening to look out for work against to-morrow, and bring home every night what money you earn for our support."

20

Having thus instructed him, and settled the rest, I walked down to the common prison, where I could enjoy more air and room. But I was not long there, when the execrations, lewdness, and brutality, that invaded me on every side, drove me back to my 25 apartment again. Here I sate for some time pondering upon the strange infatuation of wretches, who finding all mankind in open arms against them, were labouring to make themselves a future and tremendous enemy.

30

Their insensibility excited my highest compassion, and blotted my own uneasiness from my mind. It