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<h2> CHAPTER 26 </h2>
<p>A reformation in the gaol. To make laws complete, they should reward as
well as punish</p>
<p>The next morning early I was awakened by my family, whom I found in tears
at my bed-side. The gloomy strength of every thing about us, it seems, had
daunted them. I gently rebuked their sorrow, assuring them I had never
slept with greater tranquility, and next enquired after my eldest
daughter, who was not among them. They informed me that yesterday's
uneasiness and fatigue had encreased her fever, and it was judged proper
to leave her behind. My next care was to send my son to procure a room or
two to lodge the family in, as near the prison as conveniently could be
found. He obeyed; but could only find one apartment, which was hired at a
small expence, for his mother and sisters, the gaoler with humanity
consenting to let him and his two little brothers lie in the prison with
me. A bed was therefore prepared for them in a corner of the room, which I
thought answered very conveniently. I was willing however previously to
know whether my little children chose to lie in a place which seemed to
fright them upon entrance.</p>
<p>'Well,' cried I, 'my good boys, how do you like your bed? I hope you are
not afraid to lie in this room, dark as it appears.'</p>
<p>'No, papa,' says Dick, 'I am not afraid to lie any where where you are.'</p>
<p>'And I,' says Bill, who was yet but four years old, 'love every place best
that my papa is in.'</p>
<p>After this, I allotted to each of the family what they were to do. My
daughter was particularly directed to watch her declining sister's health;
my wife was to attend me; my little boys were to read to me: 'And as for
you, my son,' continued I, 'it is by the labour of your hands we must all
hope to be supported. Your wages, as a day-labourer, will be full
sufficient, with proper frugality, to maintain us all, and comfortably
too. Thou art now sixteen years old, and hast strength, and it was given
thee, my son, for very useful purposes; for it must save from famine your
helpless parents and family. Prepare then this evening to look out for
work against to-morrow, and bring home every night what money you earn,
for our support.'</p>
<p>Having thus instructed him, and settled the rest, I walked down to the
common prison, where I could enjoy more air and room. But I was not long
there when the execrations, lewdness, and brutality that invaded me on
every side, drove me back to my apartment again. Here I sate for some
time, pondering upon the strange infatuation of wretches, who finding all
mankind in open arms against them, were labouring to make themselves a
future and a tremendous enemy.</p>
<p>Their insensibility excited my highest compassion, and blotted my own
uneasiness from my mind. It even appeared a duty incumbent upon me to
attempt to reclaim them. I resolved therefore once more to return, and in
spite of their contempt to give them my advice, and conquer them by
perseverance. Going therefore among them again, I informed Mr Jenkinson of
my design, at which he laughed heartily, but communicated it to the rest.
The proposal was received with the greatest good-humour, as it promised to
afford a new fund of entertainment to persons who had now no other
resource for mirth, but what could be derived from ridicule or debauchery.</p>
<p>I therefore read them a portion of the service with a loud unaffected
voice, and found my audience perfectly merry upon the occasion. Lewd
whispers, groans of contrition burlesqued, winking and coughing,
alternately excited laughter. However, I continued with my natural
solemnity to read on, sensible that what I did might amend some, but could
itself receive no contamination from any.</p>
<p>After reading, I entered upon my exhortation, which was rather calculated
at first to amuse them than to reprove. I previously observed, that no
other motive but their welfare could induce me to this; that I was their
fellow prisoner, and now got nothing by preaching. I was sorry, I said, to
hear them so very prophane; because they got nothing by it, but might lose
a great deal: 'For be assured, my friends,' cried I, 'for you are my
friends, however the world may disclaim your friendship, though you swore
twelve thousand oaths in a day, it would not put one penny in your purse.
Then what signifies calling every moment upon the devil, and courting his
friendship, since you find how scurvily he uses you. He has 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.</p>
<p>'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 greatest,
who, after robbing an house, runs to the thieftakers 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
thieftaker 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.'</p>
<p>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 had 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.</p>
<p>'Alas, Doctor,' cried he, 'these children are too handsome and too good
for such a place as this!'</p>
<p>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.'</p>
<p>'I fancy, sir,' returned my fellow prisoner, 'that it must give you great
comfort to have this little family about you.'</p>
<p>'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.'</p>
<p>'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.'</p>
<p>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.'</p>
<p>'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.'</p>
<p>'I suppose,' cried my son, 'that the narrative of such a life as yours
must be extremely instructive and amusing.'</p>
<p>'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.</p>
<p>'Indeed I think from my own experience, that the knowing one is the
silliest fellow under the sun. I was thought cunning from my very
childhood; when but seven years old the ladies would say that I was a
perfect little man; at fourteen I knew the world, cocked my hat, and loved
the ladies; at twenty, though I was perfectly honest, yet every one
thought me so cunning, that not one would trust me. Thus I was at last
obliged to turn sharper in my own defence, and have lived ever since, my
head throbbing with schemes to deceive, and my heart palpitating with
fears of detection.</p>
<p>'I used often to laugh at your honest simple neighbour Flamborough, and
one way or another generally cheated him once a year. Yet still the honest
man went forward without suspicion, and grew rich, while I still continued
tricksy and cunning, and was poor, without the consolation of being
honest.</p>
<p>'However,' continued he, 'let me know your case, and what has brought you
here; perhaps though I have not skill to avoid a gaol myself, I may
extricate my friends.'</p>
<p>In compliance with his curiosity, I informed him of the whole train of
accidents and follies that had plunged me into my present troubles, and my
utter inability to get free.</p>
<p>After hearing my story, and pausing some minutes, he slapt his forehead,
as if he had hit upon something material, and took his leave, saying he
would try what could be done.</p>
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