hey were soft, modest,
and alluring.

The profits of my living I made over to the orphans and widows of the
clergy of our diocese; for, having a sufficient fortune of my own, I was
careless of temporalities, and felt a secret pleasure in doing my duty
without reward.

My eldest son, George, just upon leaving college, fixed his affections
upon Miss Arabella Wilmot, the daughter of a neighbouring clergyman, who
was in circumstances to give her a large fortune. Mr. Wilmot was not
averse to the match, but after the day for the nuptials had been fixed,
I engaged in a dispute with him which threatened to interrupt our
intended alliance. I have always maintained that it is unlawful for a
priest of the Church of England, after the death of his first wife, to
take a second; and I showed Mr. Wilmot a tract which I had written in
defence of this principle. It was not till too late I discovered that he
was violently attached to the contrary opinion, and with good reason;
for he was at that time actually courting a fourth wife.

While the controversy was hottest, a relation, with a face of concern,
called me out.

"The merchant in town," he said, "in whose hands your money was lodged
has gone off, to avoid a statute of bankruptcy. Your fortune is now
almost nothing."

It would be useless to describe the sensations of my family when I
divulged the news. Near a fortnight had passed before I attempted to
restrain their affliction; for premature consolation is but the
remembrance of sorrow. During this interval I determined to send my
eldest son to London, and I accepted a small cure of fifteen pounds a
year in a distant neighbourhood.

The first day's journey brought us within thirty miles of our future
retreat, and we put up at an obscure inn in a village by the way. At the
inn was a gentleman who, the landlord told me, had been so liberal in
his charity that he had no money left to pay his reckoning. I could not
avoid expressing my concern at seeing a gentleman in such circumstances,
and offered the stranger my purse. "I take it with all my heart, sir,"
replied he, "and am glad that my late oversight has shown me that there
are still some men like you." The stranger's conversation was so
pleasing and instructive that we were rejoiced to hear that he was going
the same way as ourselves.

The next morning we all set forward together. Mr. Burchell and I
lightened the fatigues of the road with philosophical disputes, and he
als