would be England to me if he waswith me; and thus, in short, I brought him to give me leave to obligehim with going to live abroad, when, in truth, I could not have beenperfectly easy at living in England, unless I had kept constantly withindoors, lest some time or other the dissolute life I had lived hereshould have come to be known, and all those wicked things have beenknown too, which I now began to be very much ashamed of.
When we closed up our wedding week, in which our Quaker had been so veryhandsome to us, I told him how much I thought we were obliged to her forher generous carriage to us; how she had acted the kindest part throughthe whole, and how faithful a friend she had been to me upon alloccasions; and then letting him know a little of her family unhappiness,I proposed that I thought I not only ought to be grateful to her, butreally to do something extraordinary for her, towards making her easy inher affairs. And I added, that I had no hangers-on that should troublehim; that there was nobody belonged to me but what was thoroughlyprovided for, and that, if I did something for this honest woman thatwas considerable, it should be the last gift I would give to anybody inthe world but Amy; and as for her, we were not agoing to turn heradrift, but whenever anything offered for her, we would do as we sawcause; that, in the meantime, Amy was not poor, that she had savedtogether between seven and eight hundred pounds. By the way, I did nottell him how, and by what wicked ways she got it, but that she had it;and that was enough to let him know she would never be in want of us.
My spouse was exceedingly pleased with my discourse about the Quaker,made a kind of a speech to me upon the subject of gratitude, told me itwas one of the brightest parts of a gentlewoman, that it was so twistedwith honesty, nay, and even with religion too, that he questionedwhether either of them could be found where gratitude was not to befound; that in this act there was not only gratitude, but charity; andthat to make the charity still more Christian-like, the object too hadreal merit to attract it; he therefore agreed to the thing with all hisheart, only would have had me let him pay it out of his effects.
I told him, as for that, I did not design, whatever I had said formerly,that we should have two pockets; and that though I had talked to him ofbeing a free woman, and an independent, and the like, and he had offeredand promised that I should keep all my own estate in my own hands; yet,that since I had taken him, I would e'en do as other honest wivesdid--where I thought fit to give myself, I should give what I had too;that if I reserved anything, it should be only in case of mortality, andthat I might give it to his children afterwards, as my own gift; andthat, in short, if he thought fit to join stocks, we would see to-morrowmorning what strength we could both make up in the world, and bringingit all together, consider, before we resolved upon the place ofremoving, how we should dispose of what we had, as well as of ourselves.This discourse was too obliging, and he too much of a man of sense notto receive it as it was meant. He only answered, we would do in that aswe should both agree; but the thing under our present care was to shownot gratitude only, but charity and affection too, to our kind friendthe Quaker; and the first word he spoke of was to settle a thousandpounds upon her for her life--that is to say, sixty pounds a year--butin such a manner as not to be in the power of any person to reach butherself. This was a great thing, and indeed showed the generousprinciples of my husband, and for that reason I mention it; but Ithought that a little too much too, and particularly because I hadanother thing in view for her about the plate; so I told him I thought,if he gave her a purse with a hundred guineas as a present first, andthen made her a compliment of L40 per annum for her life, secured anysuch way as she should desire, it would be very handsome.
He agreed to that; and the same day, in the evening, when we were justgoing to bed, he took my Quaker by the hand, and, with a kiss, told herthat we had been very kindly treated by her from the beginning of thisaffair, and his wife before, as she (meaning me) had informed him; andthat he thought himself bound to let her see that she had obligedfriends who knew how to be grateful; that for his part of the obligationhe desired she would accept of that, for an acknowledgment in part only(putting the gold into her hand), and that his wife would talk with herabout what farther he had to say to her; and upon that, not giving hertime hardly to say "Thank ye," away he went upstairs into ourbedchamber, leaving her confused and not knowing what to say.
When he was gone she began to make very handsome and obligingrepresentations of her goodwill to us both, but that it was withoutexpectation of reward; that I had given her several valuable presentsbefore--and so, indeed, I had; for, besides the piece of linen which Ihad given her at first, I had given her a suit of damask table-linen, ofthe linen I bought for my balls, viz., three table-cloths and threedozen of napkins; and at another time I gave her a little necklace ofgold beads, and the like; but that is by the way. But she mentionedthem, I say, and how she was obliged by me on many other occasions; thatshe was not in condition to show her gratitude any other way, not beingable to make a suitable return; and that now we took from her allopportunity, to balance my former friendship, and left her more in debtthan she was before. She spoke this in a very good kind of manner, inher own way, but which was very agreeable indeed, and had as muchapparent sincerity, and I verily believe as real as was possible to beexpressed; but I put a stop to it, and bade her say no more, but acceptof what my spouse had given her, which was but in part, as she had heardhim say. "And put it up," says I, "and come and sit down here, and giveme leave to say something else to you on the same head, which my spouseand I have settled between ourselves in your behalf." "What dost theemean?" says she, and blushed, and looked surprised, but did not stir.She was going to speak again, but I interrupted her, and told her sheshould make no more apologies of any kind whatever, for I had betterthings than all this to talk to her of; so I went on, and told her, thatas she had been so friendly and kind to us on every occasion, and thather house was the lucky place where we came together, and that she knewI was from her own mouth acquainted in part with her circumstances, wewere resolved she should be the better for us as long as she lived. ThenI told what we had resolved to do for her, and that she had nothing moreto do but to consult with me how it should be effectually secured forher, distinct from any of the effects which were her husband's; and thatif her husband did so supply her that she could live comfortably, andnot want it for bread or other necessaries, she should not make use ofit, but lay up the income of it, and add it every year to the principal,so to increase the annual payment, which in time, and perhaps before shemight come to want it, might double itself; that we were very willingwhatever she should so lay up should be to herself, and whoever shethought fit after her; but that the forty pounds a year must return toour family after her life, which we both wished might be long and happy.
Let no reader wonder at my extraordinary concern for this poor woman, orat my giving my bounty to her a place in this account. It is not, Iassure you, to make a pageantry of my charity, or to value myself uponthe greatness of my soul, that should give in so profuse a manner asthis, which was above my figure, if my wealth had been twice as much asit was; but there was another spring from whence all flowed, and 'tis onthat account I speak of it. Was it possible I could think of a poordesolate woman with four children, and her husband gone from her, andperhaps good for little if he had stayed--I say, was I, that had tastedso deep of the sorrows of such a kind of widowhood, able to look on her,and think of her circumstances, and not be touched in an uncommonmanner? No, no; I never looked on her and her family, though she was notleft so helpless and friendless as I had been, without remembering myown condition, when Amy was sent out to pawn or sell my pair of stays tobuy a breast of mutton and a bunch of turnips; nor could I look on herpoor children, though not poor and perishing, like mine, without tears;reflecting on the dreadful condition that mine were reduced to, whenpoor Amy sent them all into their aunt's in Spitalfields, and run awayfrom them. These were the original springs, or fountain-head, fromwhence my affectionate thoughts were moved to assist this poor woman.
&nb
sp; When a poor debtor, having lain long in the Compter, or Ludgate, or theKing's Bench for debt, afterwards gets out, rises again in the world,and grows rich, such a one is a certain benefactor to the prisonersthere, and perhaps to every prison he passes by as long as he lives, forhe remembers the dark days of his own sorrow; and even those who neverhad the experience of such sorrows to stir up their minds to acts ofcharity would have the same charitable, good disposition did they assensibly remember what it is that distinguishes them from others by amore favourable and merciful Providence.
This, I say, was, however, the spring of my concern for this honest,friendly, and grateful Quaker; and as I had so plentiful a fortune inthe world, I resolved she should taste the fruit of her kind usage to mein a manner that she could not expect.
All the while I talked to her I saw the disorder of her mind; the suddenjoy was too much for her, and