CHAP. XXVIII.

Happiness and miscry rather the result of pra dence than of virtue in this life; temporal evils or felicities being regarded by heaven as things merely in themselves trifling, and unworthy its care in the distribution.

I

HAD now been confined more than a fortnight, but had not since my arrival been visited by my dear Olivia, and I greatly longed to see her. Having communicated my wishes to my wife, the next morning the poor girl entered my apartment, leaning on her sister's arm. The change which I saw in her countenance struck me. The numberless graces that once resided there were now fled, and the hand of death seemed to have moulded every feature to alarm me. Her temples were sunk, her forehead was tense, and a fatal paleness sat upon her cheek.

but

I am glad to see thee, my dear,' cried I, why this dejection, Livy? I hope, my love, you have too great a regard for me, to permit disappointment thus to undermine a life which I prize as my own. Be cheerful, my child, and we may yet see happier days.'

You have ever, Sir, replied she, 'been kind to me, and it adds to my pain, that I shall never have an opportunity of sharing that happiness you promise. Happiness, I fear, is no longer reserved for me here, and I long to be rid of a place where I have only found distress. Indeed, Sir, I wish you would make a proper submission to Mr. Thornhill: it may, in some measure, induce him to pity you, and it will give me relief in dying.'

'Never, child,' replied I, never will I be brought to acknowledge my daughter a prostitute; for though the world may look upon your offence

with scorn, let it be mine to regard it as a mark of credulity, not of guilt. My dear, I am no way miserable in this place, however dismal it may seem; and be assured that while you continue to bless me by living, he shall never have my consent to make you more wretched by marrying another.'

After the departure of my daughter, my fellowprisoner, who was by at this interview, sensibly enough expostulated upon my obstinacy, in refus-ing a submission which promised to give me freedom. He observed, that the rest of my family were not to be sacrificed to the peace of one child alone, and she the only one who had offended me. sides,' added he, I don't know if it be just thus to obstruct the union of man and wife, which you do at present, by refusing to consent to a match which you cannot hinder, but may render unhappy.'

Sir,' replied I, you are unacquainted with the man that oppresses us. I am very sensible that no submission I can make could procure me liberty. even for an hour. I am told, that, even in this very room, a debtor of his, no later than last year, died for want. But, though my submission and approbation could transfer me from hence to the most beautiful apartment he is possessed of, yet I would grant neither, as something whispers me, that it would be giving a sanction to adultery. While my daughter lives, no other marriage of his shall ever be legal in my eye. Were she removed, indeed, I should be the basest of men, from any resentment of my own, to attempt putting asunder those who wish for an union. No, villain as he is, I should even wish him married, to prevent the consequences of his future debaucheries. But now should I not be the most cruel of all fathers, to sign an instrument which must send my child to the grave, merely to avoid a prison myself; and thus, to escape one pang, break my child's heart with a thousand He acquiesced in the justice of this answer, but could Bot avoid observing, that he feared my daughter's

life was already too much wasted to keep me long a prisoner. However,' continued he, though you refuse to submit to the nephew, I hope you have no objection to laying your case before the uncle, who has the first character in the kingdom for every thing that is just and good. I would advise you to send him a letter by the post, intimating all his nephew's ill usuage, and my life for it, that, in three days, you shall have an answer. I thanked him for the hint, and instantly set about complying; but I wanted paper, and unluckily all our money had been laid out that morning in provisions; however, he supplied me.

For the three ensuing days I was in a state of anxiety, to know what reception my letter might meet with; but in the mean time was frequently solicited by my wife to submit to any conditions rather than remain here, and every hour received repeated accounts of the decline of my daughter's health. The third day and the fourth arrived, but I received no answer to my letter; the complaints of a stranger against a favourite nephew, were no way likely to succeed; so that these hopes soon vanished, like all my former. My mind, however, still supported itself, though confinement and bad air began to make a little alteration in my health, and my arm that had suffered in the fire grew worse. My children, however, sat here, and, while I was stretched on my straw, read to me by turns, or listened and wept at my instructions. But my daughter's health declining faster than mine, every message from her contributed to increase my apprehensions and pain. The fifth morning after I had written. the letter which was sent Sir William Thornhill, I was alarmed with an account that she was speechless. Now it was that confinement was truly painful to me; my soul was bursting from its prison, to be near the pillow of my child, to comfort, to strengthen her, to receive her last wishes, and teach her soul the way to heaven: Another account came

she was expiring, and yet I was debarred the small comfort of weeping by her. My fellow-prisoner, some time after, came with the last account. He bade me be patient-she was dead! The next morning he returned, and found me with my two little ones, now my only companions, who were. using all their innocent efforts to comfort me. They intreated to read to me, and bade me not cry, for I was now too old to weep. And is not my sister an angel now, papa? cried the eldest, and why then are you sorry for her? I wish I were an angel, out of this frightful place, if my papa were with me. Yes,' added my youngest darling, heaven, where my sister is, is a finer place than this, and there are none but good people there, and the peo ple here are very bad.'

Mr. Jenkinson interrupted their harmless prattle, by observing, that, now my daughter was no more, I should seriously think of the rest of my family, and attempt to save my own life, which was every day declining, for want of necessaries and wholesome air. He added, that it is now incumbent on me to sacrifice any pride or resentment of my own to the welfare of those who depend on me for support; and that I was now, both by reason and jus tice, obliged to try to reconcile my landlord.

Heaven be praised,' replied I, there is no pride left me now. I should detest my own heart, if I saw either pride or resentment lurking there. On the contrary, as my oppressor has been once my parishoner, I hope one day to present him up an unpolluted soul at the eternal tribunal. No, Sir, I have no resentment now; and though he has taken from me what I held dearer than all his treasures, though he has wrung my heart, for I am sick almost to fainting, very sick, my fellow-prisoner, yet that shall never inspire me with vengeance. I am now willing to approve his marriage, and, if this submission can do him any pleasure, let him know, that if I have done him any injury, I am sorry for it.'

Mr. Jenkinson took pen and ink, and wrote down
I have expressed it, to
My son was employed to

my submission nearly as
which I signed my name.
carry the letter to Mr. Thornhill, who was then at
his seat in the country. He went, and in about six
hours returned with a verbal answer. He had some
difficulty, he said, to get a sight of his landlord, as
the servants were insolent and suspicious; but he
accidentally saw him as he was going out upon
business, preparing for his marriage, which was to
be in three days. He continued to inform us, that
he stept up in the bumblest manner, and delivered
the letter, which, when Mr. Thornhill had read, he
said that all submission was now too late and
unnecessary; that he had heard of our application
to his uncle, which met with the contempt it de-
served; and, as for the rest, that all future applica-
tions should be directed to his attorney, not to him.
He observed, however, that, as he had a very good
opinion of the discretion of the two young ladies,
they might have been the most agreeable interces-

sors.

Weil, Sir,' said I to my fellow-prisoner, you now discover the temper of the man who oppresses me. He can at once be facetious and cruel; but let hini use me as he will, I shall soon be free, in spite of all his bolts to restrain me. I am now drawing towards an abode that looks brighter as I approach it; this expectation cheers my afflictions, and though I leave an helpless family of orphans behind me, yet they will not be utterly forsaken; some friend, perhaps, will be found to assist them for the sake of their poor father, and some may charitably relieve them for the sake of their Hea venly Father.'

Just as I spoke, my wife, whom I had not seen that day before, appeared with looks of terror, and making efforts, but unable to speak. Why my love,' cried I, why will you thus increase my afflictions by your own? What though no submission can