given you nothing here, you find, but a mouthful of oaths and an empty belly; and by the best accounts I have of him, he will give you nothing that’s good hereafter.

“If used ill in our dealings with one man, we naturally go elsewhere. Were it not worth your while then just to try how you may like the usage of another Master, who gives you fair promises at least to come to Him. Surely, my friends, of all stupidity in the world his must be the greatest who, after robbing a house, runs to the thief-takers for protection. And yet how are you more wise? You are all seeking comfort from one that has already betrayed you, applying to a more malicious being than any thief-taker of them all; for they only decoy and then hang you; but he decoys and hangs, and what is worst of all, will not let you loose after the hangman has done.”

When I had concluded I received the compliments of my audience, some of whom came and shook me by the hand, swearing that I was a very honest fellow, and that they desired my further acquaintance. I therefore promised to repeat my lecture next day, and actually conceived some hopes of making a reformation here; for it had ever been my opinion, that no man was past the hour of amendment, every heart lying open to the shafts of reproof, if the archer could but take a proper aim. When I had thus satisfied my mind I went back to my apartment, where my wife prepared a frugal meal, while Mr. Jenkinson begged leave to add his dinner to ours, and partake of the pleasure, as he was kind enough to express it, of my conversation. He had not yet seen my family; for as they came to my apartment by a door in the narrow passage already described, by this means they avoided the common prison. Jenkinson at the first interview therefore seemed not a little struck with the beauty of my youngest daughter, which her pensive air contributed to heighten, and my little ones did not pass unnoticed.

“Alas, doctor,” cried he, “these children are too handsome and too good for such a place as this!”

“Why, Mr. Jenkinson,” replied I, “thank Heaven my children are pretty tolerable in morals, and if they be good it matters little for the rest.”

“I fancy, sir,” returned my fellow-prisoner, “that it must give you great comfort to have all this little family about you.”

“A comfort, Mr. Jenkinson,” replied I, “yes, it is indeed a comfort, and I would not be without them for all the world; for they can make a dungeon seem a palace. There is but one way in this life of wounding my happiness, and that is by injuring them.”

“I am afraid then, sir,” cried he, “that I am in some measure culpable; for I think I see here,” looking at my son Moses, “one that I have injured, and by whom I wish to be forgiven.”

My son immediately recollected his voice and features, though he had before seen him in disguise, and taking him by the hand, with a smile forgave him. “Yet,” continued he, “I can’t help wondering at what you could see in my face to think me a proper mark for deception.”

“My dear sir,” returned the other, “it was not your face, but your white stockings and the black ribband in your hair that allured me. But no disparagement to your parts, I have deceived wiser men than you in my time; and, yet, with all my tricks, the blockheads have been too many for me at last.”

“I suppose,” cried my son, “that the narrative of such a life as yours must be extremely instructive and amusing.”

“Not much of either,” returned Mr. Jenkinson. “Those relations which describe the tricks and vices only of mankind, by increasing our suspicion in life retard our success. The traveller that distrusts every person he meets, and turns back upon the appearance of every man that looks like a robber, seldom arrives in time at his journey’s end.

  By PanEris using Melati.

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