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MEMOIRS OF HENRY HUNT, ESQ.

IN HIS MAJESTY'S JAIL AT ILCHESTER,

IN THE COUNTY of SOMERSET.

Volume I

Whoever thinks a faultless piece to see, Thinks what ne'er was, nor is, nor e'er shall be. In every work regard the Writer's end, Since none can compass more than they intend; And if the means be just, the conduct true, Applause, in spite of trivial faults, is due. POPE.

LONDON:

PUBLISHED BY T. DOLBY, 299, STRAND; AND 34, WARDOUR STREET, SOHO.

MALE AND FEMALE,

ENGLAND, IRELAND, AND SCOTLAND,

Now, my good friends of Kirkeaton, although I will not recommend you to do any thing to get sent to jail, yet, I will tell you what I would do if I were in your situation. I would work hard from Monday to Saturday, and at the end of the week if I found that my wages were not sufficient to support myself, my wife, and children, in the common necessaries of life, I would, on the following Monday, try a fresh plan. Instead of going to work, I would go to a neighbouring magistrate, Lord Milton, or Lord Fitzwilliam, for instance, if they were within reach, and I would tell him that I had left my wife and family chargeable to the parish, as I was unable to support them by my labour; but as I knew the leaving of my family as an incumbrance upon the parish was an offence against the laws, for which I was liable to be committed to prison, and as I did not wish to give the parish officers more trouble than was absolutely necessary, I had come to request his lordship to make out my mittimus, that I might go to jail as soon and as peaceably as possible. I know what the corrupt knave of the Morning Post will say, "Ha! he is in a prison himself, and he wants now to get all his followers there also." But suppose this were the case, which it is not, you would not, could not, be worse off than Lord Milton's constituents are. But I have said this a thousand times within the last five years; nay, I always said this, seeing that a poor labouring man is twice as well off in a jail as he is out of it, as to meat, drink, washing, and lodging.

In my humble judgment, the greatest fault he ever committed was, in having too good an opinion of the justice of the boroughmongers, and relying upon the liberality of their agents, so far as to be betrayed into that net which now surrounds him. He always appeared to admire our courts of justice; but he knew nothing of our system of packing SPECIAL JURIES.

In the confident hope that we shall live to see better days, our Country restored to prosperity, and its inhabitants to freedom and happiness,

I remain,

My friends and fellow-countrymen,

Your faithful and sincere humble servant,

H. HUNT.

MEMOIRS

OF HENRY HUNT.

The next day they marched into Hampshire towards the appointed rendezvous, as had been previously agreed upon; but when they arrived there, instead of meeting, as they expected, any of their friends who were parties at the stag hunt, they found Cromwell's army who had intimation of their movements, already there in considerable force, ready to overwhelm them. However, Cromwell, as usual, endeavoured to carry his point by policy; in the first instance, rather than sacrifice any lives in such an unequal conflict, he sent a flag of truce, and promised if they would lay down their arms they should be pardoned, and all officers and men might return to their homes without any molestation. A consultation and council of war was held, when Grove, Hunt, and Penruddock came to a determination to die sword in hand rather than trust to the clemency of him, whom they deemed an usurper, and they returned an answer accordingly. In the meantime, Oliver had sent some of his agents amongst the men, to whom they pointed out the desperate situation in which their commanders had placed them, and urged them at once to accept the offer of the Protector and return to their homes; and when Grove, Hunt, and Penruddock ordered their men to prepare for the attack, they one and all refused, and immediately lay down their arms, upon which they were instantly surrounded, and made prisoners; and instead of Cromwell keeping his word with these poor fellows, he ordered every common man to be instantly hung upon the boughs of trees and elsewhere, and the officers to be committed to three separate jails in the West of England upon a charge of high treason, for making war against the troops of the Commonwealth, in order to depose the Protector, and with an intent to alter the government and constitution of the country, as by the then law established. Upon which charge they were tried, found guilty, and sentenced by the very judges whom they had before imprisoned at Salisbury, to be hanged, drawn, and quartered, but upon petition their sentence was mitigated by Cromwell to that of being beheaded. Colonel Hunt was sent back after trial to be executed at this very jail, and possibly might have been confined, if not in the same room, upon the very same spot wherein his descendant is now writing the account of the transaction, which has descended by tradition and written documents to him as the heir of the family, and which written documents in proof thereof, are now in his possession. However, be that as it may, it is therein recorded that Hunt's two sisters, Elizabeth and Margery, came to visit him the night previous to his execution, which was ordered to take place at day-break the next morning. The regulations of the jail not being so strictly performed as they are now, his sister Margery slept in his bed all night, while the Colonel, who had dressed himself in her clothes, walked out of the prison unperceived with his sister Elizabeth and escaped; but, as it is recorded by himself, being a stranger in the neighbourhood, and fearful of keeping in the high-way, he had lost himself in the night and had wandered about, so that when day-light arrived he had not got so far from the jail but that he heard the bell toll for his execution. At this awful period he met a collier carrying a bag of coals upon his horse, and having ascertained by some conversation that he had with him, that he was friendly to the cause of the Stuarts and hostile to the Protector, he was induced to discover himself, and to place his person and his life in his power, of which he had no reason to repent, as the man proved faithful, and assisted him to escape to France, where he remained with the second Charles, and returned in company with him at the time of the restoration.

Colonel Hunt, as well as all his friends, expected the immediate restoration of his estates, which had been confiscated. In fact no one could have expected less than this act of justice at least, in return for his long, zealous and faithful services. But, on the contrary, the secret advisers of the grateful prince recommended to him by all means to endeavour to conciliate his enemies, and to let his friends shift for themselves, which advice he followed to the letter in this instance. As Colonel Hunt's estates had fallen into powerful hands, Charles absolutely refused to take any measures for their restoration. Thus was this faithful partisan of royalty rewarded for all his services, by one of the basest acts of ingratitude that ever disgraced the character even of a prince. How truly verified was the prophetic and sublime admonition of Scripture, "Put not your trust in princes." However, Colonel Hunt was offered the Chancellorship of the Duchy of Lancaster for life, which offer he indignantly refused, and in disgust retired into the country, where he married and passed the remainder of his life in tranquillity, accompanied by his sisters, upon a small estate in the parish of Enford in the county of Wilts, which had been overlooked by the agents of Cromwell. Here, with the property he had with his lady, and the wreck of his fortune, he sustained the character of a gentleman to a good old age, leaving an only son, to whom Queen Anne gave the colonelcy of a regiment of foot. This was the last of my family who was ever in the employment of the government, or who ever received one shilling of the public money in any capacity whatever.

My mother was of a weak and nervous constitution, and I inherited in some degree, when a child, her complaint, for I was very delicate, although remarkable for activity and high spirits. I remember about a month before I first went to school, which was at the early age of only five years and a half, I rode to Magdalen-hill fair near Winchester, a distance of thirty-one miles, and back again the same day, with my father. To ride sixty-two miles in one day for a boy not five years and a half old, which I did without any apparent fatigue, was considered rather an extraordinary omen of my future capability for active exertion. I was sent to a boarding-school at Tilshead in Wiltshire, at five and a half years of age, and, my father told me at my departure, "that I was going to begin a little world for myself." Before I mounted my poney he seriously gave me his blessing and his parting advice, which was delivered in a very emphatic manner, my mother anxiously listening, while a tear glistened in her eye. "Go," said he, "my dear, and may heaven bless and direct all your actions, so that you may grow up to be an honest, a brave, and a good man; but remember well what I now say: you must fight your own battles amongst your schoolfellows as well as you can. If I ever hear that you are quarrelsome I shall detest you, but if I find that you are a coward I will disown and disinherit you." This was the language of one of the best of fathers to his son, a child of five years and a half old, and it speaks volumes as to the character of the man and the parent. This school, which was situated in a healthy village upon Salisbury Plain, consisted of a master and an usher, who had the care and instruction of sixty-three boys. The scholars were better fed than taught; but as a healthy situation was more looked to than their education, by the parents of those children who were sent there, the discipline was calculated to give general satisfaction. We learned to read , to write, and cast accounts, and at the end of one year I was taken from this school.

Beyond the common-place events incident to an early initiation into the tricks and frolics of a school-boy, there occurred, during my stay at this place, nothing worthy of being introduced here; with the exception, however, of one very important circumstance, relative to the strict discipline maintained by my father, in all cases where there was the slightest deviation from truth. A violation of truth was always sure to be punished by him with the greatest severity. As the circumstance to which I allude made a strong and lasting impression upon my mind, and in a great measure laid the foundation for my general rule of action ever since, I shall faithfully record it.

Young as I was, being under seven years of age, when I left this school, I, nevertheless, formed connections and attachments, which have existed to this hour with unabated sincerity and uninterrupted friendship. And, as a gratifying proof of this fact, one of my then school fellows, Mr. Thomas Cousens, of Heytesbury, with whom I have ever since that period been on the most friendly footing, was the very first person who came to visit me after my arrival at this prison. He no sooner heard of my sentence than he mounted his horse, and before I had scarcely had time to look round my new habitation, the name of my friend Cousens was announced, who had ridden upwards of thirty miles; and, in the true spirit of disinterested genuine friendship, proffered not only his hand but his heart, to serve me in any way that lay in his power. I have indeed received innumerable proofs of kindness and sympathy from various quarters of the empire, since my arrival here; but the recollection of this prompt and efficient testimony of the sincerity of his friendship, will only be forgotten by me in the grave.

Upon the death of my grandfather, at this period, my father went to reside at Littlecot Farm, in the parish of Enford; but he still occupied Widdington Farm. Having spent two or three days, by invitation, with his landlord, Mr. Wyndham, of Dinton, where he met Sir Thomas Heathcot, of Hursley Park, who was the brother of Mrs. Wyndham, he was prevailed upon, by the joint intercession of Sir Thomas and Mr. as well as Mrs. Wyndham, to send me to be educated at Hursley, where Sir Thomas was patronising in a school a very worthy man, of the name of Alner, the brother of Mr. Alner, of Salisbury, who for so many years had the conducting and arranging the materials which composed the Western Almanack. Mr. and Mrs. Wyndham had also promised to send their three eldest sons at the same time to the same school, and one or two sons of Mr. Wyndham, of Salisbury, were also going there; and the worthy baronet, who never did a kind action by halves, promised my father, who was a great favourite with him, that he would take the same care of me, and shew me the same attention that he did to his nephews; which promise he did not forget to perform during my stay at Hursley School, which was about two years and a half.

I was now become of sufficient age, to be at once a companion and an assistant in these charitable peregrinations. There was not a threshold in the village but she had crossed at one time or another, in order to render some act of kindness or attention; and, as she passed along, the grateful inhabitants of every cottage came forth to bestow upon her their spontaneous and fervent blessings, whilst those who were rolling in wealth, and puffed up with pride, were suffered to pass unheeded by. Here it was that my little heart first began to pant for the power to do good; and I longed to receive, and to deserve such blessings, as were lavished with grateful lips upon my angelic mother by the poor of all denominations. I now began to pity their wants and sufferings, and to participate and rejoice in their happiness. When I expressed a desire for riches, to enable me to purchase such blessings as were bestowed upon her, how often did my beloved mother reprove me in the kindest manner, and endeavour to impress upon my young mind this valuable truth, that wealth did not always afford the best means of doing good. She used to say, that those who sincerely wished to do an act of charity, seldom wanted the means of doing something to relieve the wants, and soothe the afflictions, of those who were pining in wretchedness and want; for, said she, even a kind consoling word, combined with a very little personal attention, is frequently esteemed more valuable, and even proved to be more useful, than money, to those whose spirits as well as bodies are pressed down to the earth by unforeseen and frequently unmerited misfortune. These examples opened to my susceptible mind a new field for reflection, and the scenes of misery I witnessed, although at that period they were not numerous, and required to be sought for to be known, yet they created a sympathy in my young breast, which I flatter myself I have ever cherished, and from that period I may date the origin of my philanthropy. My mother saw the impression which it had made upon the mind of her son, and having kindled the sacred fire of benevolence, she took good care to fan the flame, by giving me the means of exercising those charitable feelings, which she had by her example created. Added to these, as well as all the other moral virtues, this excellent woman practised the most pious and scrupulous attention to her religious duties. Her motto was

"Teach me to feel another's woe, To hide the fault I see; That mercy I to others shew, That mercy shew to me."

This brought into the room my mother, who was struck with astonishment at the unusual manner of my father. He repeated to her that be had, he thought, discovered in me such seeds as would grow up and produce fruit of future fame. She smiled in the most benignant manner, and said, he must trust to time to realize such hopes; but at all events she could answer for one thing, which was, that the seeds of humanity and philanthropy were implanted in my breast; for she had hailed, with great satisfaction, the proof that I could feel for others, and that it was a pleasure to me to relieve the wants and sufferings of my fellow creatures; and therefore, she fondly hoped, that I should make a good man and a good Christian; and addressing herself to my father, she added, "we will, my dear, trust to chance whether he ever makes a hero or not." I mention these particular incidents, to shew what pains were taken by my excellent, noble-minded father, and my amiable, tender-hearted, and affectionate mother, to instil into my young mind those precepts which each conceived would be most conducive to my future happiness. My fathers great object appeared to be, to fire the young aspiring hope with deeds of honour, courage, and patriotism. My mother's more gentle nature induced her to cultivate the genial soil with the milder virtues, making Christian piety and charity the foundation of all her present and future hopes. There never lived a child that had more pains and care bestowed upon him, by his parents, than I had. My father inherited and practised the noblest qualities; he was an intelligent, industrious, strictly honest, honourable, high-spirited Englishman; the motto, taken from his favourite author, was constantly upon his lips, "An honest man is the noblest work of God." My mother may be correctly described in one short sentence, to have been a gentle, virtuous, amiable, charitable, and truly pious Christian.

Having now left the school at Hursley, where I had learned all that could be learned there, my father received from Mr. Alner, the worthy master, very similar assurances to those he had previously received from Mr. Cooper: that I was a high-spirited, generous, volatile lad, capable of learning any thing that I chose to apply myself to; but that I was rather more fond of excelling in feats of activity, than of a strict adherence to my studies.

I was now sent to the grammar school at Andover, under the care of the Rev. Thomas Griffith, where I was to enter upon the study of the classics. My father took me on a Saturday, that being a market-day at Andover; and having introduced me to Mr. and Mrs. Griffith, he did not forget to give me the character he had received from the masters of the two schools which I had previously left; adding his own testimony, in confirmation of my being of a kind, generous, and open disposition. Mrs. Griffith received us very politely; and, as she had a very prepossessing manner, I felt pleased with the prospect before me, although I thought I saw something that I did not much like in the countenance of Mr. Griffith, who was a muscular, swarthy, dark-looking person, with rather a forbidding air. My father, having given me his blessing, took his leave, and consigned me to my new master, who led me into the school; and, as it was then past eleven o'clock, he gave me an Enfield's Speaker, and desired me to look it over, as he should not place me in any class until Monday. The school hours were up at twelve o'clock, Saturday afternoon being always a holiday, and consequently I did not consider that I had any task to learn on that day. I was therefore more employed in thinking of my mother at home, and in looking round the school, surveying my new companions, than I was with the volume. At length I caught my master's eye, and as he seemed to be smiling, as I thought at me, I returned it, as an earnest of my sense of his kindness. But alas! as it will appear, I mistook my man. He beckoned to me, and called me up to his desk, at the other end of the school. I obeyed; "Pray, Sir," said he, "what were you laughing at?" I found I was deceived, and I stood silent, unable to answer the interrogatory; upon which he gave me a severe box under the ear, which made me reel again, and nearly knocked me down. He then sternly said, "Go, Sir, to your seat, and mind your business, and in future take care how you let me catch you laughing again." This at once impressed upon my mind the ferocity and cowardice of his nature; for I had not been in the school at the time more than ten minutes. It was such an act of injustice, cruelty, and tyranny, and so very different from any thing that I had ever before experienced, that I was almost stupified with indignation; but, recovering myself a little, I was upon the point of rushing out of the school, and flying to my father, who must have been yet at the inn in the town. I looked towards the door; it stood enticingly open, and if my pride had not come to my assistance, I should most assuredly have indulged the first impulse of my resentment. From that moment to this, however, I have never thought of the circumstance, without regretting that I did not follow that impulse. However, I sat down; but, from that time, I never failed to consider him as an unjust and cruel petty tyrant; nor did I ever, for one moment afterward, look up to him even with common respect.

To shew what acts of tyranny and oppression will drive even a lad to do, in the way of hardened resistance, observe the following instance Seventeen of the boys were to be flogged for making a bonfire on the 5th of November, myself of course among the number; many of them were large boys, and we were left together while Griffith was busily employed making up a number of rods out of half a dozen new birch brooms, a great many dozens of which he bought every year at Weyhill fair, expressly for that purpose. While he was thus amiably occupied, although I was one of the smallest and youngest among them, I volunteered to recommend forcible resistance; and proposed, if they would all stick together, that when he came into the school we would seize him, lay him down, tie him hand and foot, and give him a good flogging, instead of taking the flogging ourselves; and I believe that I went so far as to offer to become myself the operator. This was listened to for a moment, but such is the effect of tyranny upon the human mind, that the majority were for remaining passive slaves, and accordingly we all patiently suffered him to flog us one after the other. When it came to my turn I looked him in the face, and received any punishment with a hardened indifference, which enraged him to such a degree, that he gave me a double dose; declaring at one time, as he gnashed his teeth, that he would flog me till I did cry out. In spite of his threat, however, he became tired first; for I believe I should have expired under his bloody hand before I would have uttered a single sigh or a groan. I must do my fellow-sufferers the justice to say, that the whole seventeen acted in the same manner, not one of them gratified his tender ear with a shriek, a groan, or even a complaint.

The next day, being a half holiday, I was to be confined at home to learn some lines, instead of going out to walk with the rest of the boys; and Ludlow having agreed to sham illness in the morning, we hoped that we should by that means be left at home together by ourselves, and if a fair opportunity offered, we resolved that we would be off. Every thing turned out as we had anticipated. Ludlow was very ill, and Mrs. Griffith, who was a very humane, kind-hearted woman, made him lie in bed, where he was nursed with tea and toast, and other nice things that were necessary for a sick person. About three o'clock all the other boys went out with the usher, to take their after noon's walk. I was left at home, and ordered to remain in the school, to learn a very hard task out of some book, or to take a flogging in the morning. I went immediately up stairs to inform my companion that the coast was clear; he jumped out of bed, and put on his cloaths, and in a few minutes we walked down stairs, out of the back door, across the church yard; and in less than a quarter of an hour we were on our road to Weyhill, leaving Mrs. Griffith to take her patient's physic herself, and any one that chose, to learn the lines that the Parson had set me.

As we passed along we saw our master and his friend shooting in a field adjoining the road. We began to quake for fear, but he was too busily engaged with his sport to notice us; and, creeping along under the hedge, we passed on unnoticed. Ludlow's parents lived at Devizes, a distance of twenty-seven miles from Andover; Enford, the residence of my father, was a little more than fifteen miles on the same road. We lost no time, and, having kept on a good pace, we arrived at Enford soon after six o'clock. This was some time in October, and it was quite dark before we got within sight of the house. We had agreed that Ludlow should sleep with me, and proceed on to his own house the next morning. When we reached the door my heart began to sink within me, and I was actually afraid to enter; for now I began to dread the anger of my father, which was much more terrible to me than the tyranny of Griffith. At length one of the servants, James Jukes, came by, and I begged him to go in and inform my father of my being come home. He told me that my father was from home, but he hastened in, for the purpose of informing my mother. This, however, was not necessary, for we followed him, and stood before my mother, who gave a shriek of astonishment. We told her the story, but she instantly dispatched the servant for my father, who was gone to visit a neighbour. Ludlow was very brave upon this occasion. Before my father arrived, my mother had given us a supper of Apple pie; and, as we were very tired, and as I wished to avoid the presence of my father as long as I could, we requested to go to bed; but my mother would not admit of this till he was come home.

At length, the well known knock at the door announced his approach--I never before felt such a sensation of fear as I did at this moment. He came in, and having sternly surveyed us, after a short pause, he said, "Pray gentlemen, what wind brought you here?" I was speechless; but Ludlow boldly replied, "the severity of our Master, Sir." "Well," he rejoined, "and my severity shall flog you back again to-morrow," upon which we were immediately packed off to bed, which my Mother had taken care to provide for us.

In the course of a few days, my Father rode over to Andover, and sent for Griffith down to the Star Inn, to pay him his bill. Having expostulated with him upon his conduct to me, and his still more unfeeling conduct if possible to himself; Griffith chose to bluster and bully, upon which my father coolly turned him out of the room, telling him that his gown alone saved him from the chastisement that he merited; a privilege which the parson did not choose to waive. He, therefore sneaked off, in order to save himself from being either kicked or horse-whipped. Ludlow was taken back to the School by his Father, and having subsequently formed connections, he got into business, and has lived in the own of Andover ever since. Within two years of this time Griffith's school dwindled down to nothing, and soon afterwards, execrated by every boy that had ever been under his care, he returned to Wales, from whence he came.

In detailing these occurrences of my boyhood, I have been thus particular for two purposes; first, to shew the reader the tyranny I had to encounter before I was yet thirteen years of age, and the effect it produced upon my mind, as well as the determined manner in which I resisted oppression, even at that time; and, secondly, with the hope that it will be a warning to all those who may read these memoirs, to avoid sending their children to be flogged out of every good quality, and rendered miserable, without the least chance of improvement, by one of these petty tyrants. The greatest care and circumspection should be exercised by parents, for they have a sacred duty to perform, in the selection of those with whom they intrust the care and education of their children. As to this school, it was a stain upon and a disgrace to the character of English education: in Scotland such a school would not have existed a month, and the master would have been indicted.

I was next placed under the care of the Rev. James Evans, who kept a very respectable school in Castle Street, at Salisbury. This gentleman was also a Welshman; and, as I had taken a great antipathy to Reverend Welshmen, I felt rather uncomfortable when I ascertained that he came from the land of goats. My fears, however, were groundless; he was a gentleman in every respect the reverse of him of whom I have so recently spoken. To be sure he was pedantic enough, having been all his life a school-master; but he was a humane, kind-hearted man, and his strictness was assumed, for the purpose of maintaining by discipline a due subordination in the school. His lady, Mrs. Evans, was also a combination of good qualities, and I believe there never was a more happy couple. She delighted to make every body happy about her. As for myself, the good disposition that I took with me to Andover, was in a great measure flogged out of me there; I was become impatient of controul, and had imbibed an ungovernable spirit, which led me into difficulties and disappointments, that I should otherwise have avoided. I have often lamented the trouble that I gave this worthy man, as well as his lady, and many years back thought it my duty to take an occasion of expressing the sorrow I felt for any uneasiness that I had caused them during my stay there.

Mrs. Evans now came forward, and earnestly entreated her husband, in common justice, if there was any person who had seen me, or if he had any proof that I took the money, or knew any thing of it, that he would bring them forward; and, if he had not, that he would at least, admit that he had no ground for saying what he had said. Mr. Evans felt the force of her observation, and seeing that I denied the fact so unequivocally, he said that he had no proof of the fact, that he had gone too far, that as circumstances appeared strong against me at first, and it appeared that I was embarrassed, he thought it best to charge me boldly with it, to induce me to confess at once. Mrs. Evans, who was a good creature, and a sincere lover of justice, possessing too a great deal of discrimination, inveighed in very strong terms against charging a boy with theft, and casting aspersions upon his character, without any foundation or proof whatever. She added, that I had been at the school nearly three years, without ever having created any suspicion of my honesty, or without doing the slightest act upon which they could ground such a charge:--that she had frequently trusted me with money to execute errands and commissions for her, that I had always done it with the strictest regularity, and the most scrupulous regard to honesty; and, raising her voice, she said she would herself be bound for my innocence upon this occasion; adding, with great warmth, there was not an honester lad in the school, and that some of those who threw out dark hints of suspicion against Master Hunt, were much more likely, from their general character, to have robbed Scott than he was.

In consequence of this tone being taken by my kind friend, whose memory I have always held, and ever shall hold, in the highest veneration, Mr. Evans slightly apologized for having asserted that he had proof of my guilt; saying in excuse that it was his duty to do every thing in his power to unravel the mystery. "You may go Master Hunt," said Mrs. Evans; and in the kindest possible manner she endeavoured to console me for the injustice I had suffered, by telling me that the thief would certainly be found out, and then those that had accused me would be ashamed of themselves.

I certainly now expected that I should have a severe flogging, and so did all my school fellows; but I was agreeably disappointed when he arrived in the school, by his addressing me in a very serious manner, as follows, "Master Hunt, I now set you an imposition of one hundred lines of Virgil to learn by Friday, and the next time I ever hear you make use of such words I will certainly give you a flogging." The lines were learnt, and so ended that part of the story.

Mrs. Evans now proposed to send for my father, which in a few days she did. When he arrived and was informed of the circumstances, he felt greatly distressed. I was sent for into the parlour; my father was shocked at my appearing in such ill health, and the agony of his feelings was intense at the cause of my illness. He intreated me, by the love I bore towards him and my mother, to confess the truth; if I had in an unguarded moment been led into an error, the only reparation was openly to confess it, and, in that case, he offered immediately to repay Scott his money, and to make him a handsome present besides; in fact he promised to do any thing. Before he would allow me to make an answer, he went almost upon his knees, and implored me to tell him the whole truth, proffering at the same time his entire forgiveness if I had done it. I assured him, in the most serious and solemn manner, that I knew nothing whatever of the money, that it had made me very unhappy indeed, that I had had no sleep for the last eight or ten nights, and had lost my appetite, and that I was become very weak and ill; which illness he found, by feeling my pulse, was attended with a very considerable fever. He proposed to take me home for a short time, to restore my health; but this I objected to, as being likely to give a colour to the charge. It was therefore settled that I should take some medicine, prescribed by Mr. Stills, to calm my spirits and allay my fever.

This was quite enough for us, and without waiting any further ceremony, we started off back to the school. In the mean time, Best, having ascertained that we were gone to his father to make enquiry, had confessed that it was he who had stolen the money out of Scott's pocket; and when we returned he was surrounded by all the boys, who were upbraiding and taunting him with his villainy; but they were all more enraged with him for his baseness in accusing me of the theft, than they were with the theft itself. I was the only one who expressed any pity for him, and had the weakness to solicit for that mercy to be shewn to him which he had denied to me. The next morning he was expelled the school; but, in consideration of his family very little was said about it--however, they soon left the town, which it was generally understood was occasioned by this unfortunate event. My father was sent for, and he came over immediately, to participate with me in the happiness I felt, at being so completely exculpated from all suspicion; and every endeavour was made to render me, as far as it was possible, compensation for my sufferings.

I now recovered my health and strength, and prosecuted my studies till I was nearly sixteen years of age. My father then, on condition of my taking orders, and going into the Church, proposed to send me to Oxford, and to purchase the next presentation to a living of upwards of a thousand a year, which was offered to him at that time at a very moderate price; subject to the life of the incumbent, who was upwards of seventy years of age. This I declined, as I had a great wish to be a farmer; and, at the same time, had a particular objection to the Church, an objection which principally originated in the dislike I had to Parson Griffith, and to the way in which he enforced the precepts of Christianity.

While my father was thus addressing me, my mother returned from visiting a poor gypsy woman, who had that morning been delivered of a fine child, under an adjoining hedge, without any other covering but one of their small tents, which are merely composed of a sheet thrown over a few arched sticks, stuck into the ground. She came into the room just in time to hear the latter part of my father's observations, describing the life of a modern clergyman. With her accustomed charitable feeling, she said "really, my dear, although there is too much truth in the picture you have drawn, yet you have been a little too severe upon the clergy, when speaking of them in the mass. There are many excellent and worthy men, who follow the precepts of their great master, who are an ornament to that society to which they belong, and are, therefore, most deserving members of, and do great credit to, the profession which you have so indiscriminately reprobated."

"But," said my mother, "because some of the clergy bear the character that you say they do, is that any reason that Henry should follow their example? If he should be a clergyman, he will have great power of doing good among his parishioners; he may be a magistrate, or perhaps a Doctor of Divinity; and who knows but he may by and bye be a bishop?"

My father now began to grow impatient. "A bishop indeed!" said he, "God forbid that I should ever live to see him act in such a way as to obtain a bishopric, even if he were to go into the church."

My mother could not believe that the highest dignities of the church were ever obtained by such disgraceful means; but my father justified his assertion by pointing out one or two living instances, that had come within the reach of his own knowledge. He also pointed out some dignitaries of the church who lived in his immediate neighbourhood, whom my mother knew, and was obliged to admit to be very profligate characters. But she, always wishing to look at the bright, instead of the dark side of the question, called in turn to his recollection a number of very excellent and very worthy members of the church, whom they knew to be most amiable, charitable, and truly religions characters.

Thus ended this conference upon a subject which appeared to be so very important to my parents. My mother certainly had a great leaning to the desire of seeing me a clergyman, and I believe it would have been the summit of her happiness and ambition to have seen me zealously enforcing those principles of christianity, which she had so faithfully practised. My father dropped the subject at that time; but he took an early opportunity of seriously going into the matter in private, and he exhorted me to give the question a deliberate consideration, as it most materially concerned my future welfare; adding, "he that sets out wrong is more than half undone. If," said he "you intend to lead a quiet, easy life, that of a clergyman will exactly suit you. If you are disposed to make one of the common herd of mankind, and pass your time away in enjoying the sports of the field, and the recreations of a social country life, you may live and die a clergyman, and a very happy man. But if you have any ambition to be a shining character in the world, that is the very last profession I would recommend; as I am firmly persuaded that you will have no chance of becoming eminent, or exalted in rank, unless you will condescend to obtain it by the most prostituted sycophancy, and a total dereliction of every manly noble feeling of independence."

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