ESSAYS. 



871 



many of their fellow creatures are obliged to 

 wander without a friend to comfort or assist 

 them, and even without shelter from the 

 severity of the season. 



1 have been led into those reflections from 

 accidentally meeting, some days ago, a poor 

 fellow whom I knew when a boy, dressed in 

 a sailors jacket, and begging at one of the 

 outlets of the town, with a wooden leg. I 

 knew him to have been honest and industri- 

 ous when in the country, and was curious to 

 learn what had reduced him to his present 

 situation. Wherefore, alter having given him 

 what I thought proper, I desired to know the 

 history of his lite and misfortunes, and the 

 manner in which he was reduced to his pre- 

 sent distress. The disabled soldier, for such 

 he was, though dressed in a sailor's habit, 

 scratching his head, and leaning on his 

 crutch, put himself into an attitude to comply 

 with my request, and gave me his history as 

 follows. 



' As for my misfortunes, master, I cannot 

 pretend to have gone through any more than 

 other folks; for, except the loss of my limb, 

 and my being obliged to beg. 1 don't know 

 any reason, thank Heaven, that I have to 

 complain; there is Bill Tibbs, of our regi- 

 ment, he has lost both his legs and an eye to 

 boot; but, thank Heaven, it is not so bad 

 with me yet. 



' I was born in Shropshire, my father was 

 a labourer, and died when I was five years 

 old; so I was put upon the parish. As he 

 had been a wandering sort of a man, the 

 parishioners were not able to tell to what 

 parish I belonged, or where I was born, so 

 they sent me to another parish, and that 

 parish sent me to a third. I thought in my 

 heart, they kept sending me about so long, 

 that they would not let me be born in any par- 

 ish at all ; but at last, however, they tixed me. I 

 had some disposition to be a scholar, and was 

 resolved, at least, to know my letters; but 

 the master of the work-house put me to busi- 

 ness as soon as I was able to handle a mallet; 

 and here I lived an easy kind of life for five 

 years. I o'lly wrought. ten hours in the day, 

 and had my meat and drink provided for my 

 labour. It is trup, I was not suffered to stir 

 out of the house, for fear, as they said, I 

 should run away; but what of that, I had the 



j liberty of the whole house, and the yard be- 

 fore the door, and that was enough for me. 

 I was then bound out to a farmer, where I 

 was up both early and late : but 1 ate and 

 drank well, and liked my business well 

 enough, till he died, when 1 was obliged to 

 provide lor myself; sol was resolved to go 

 seek my fortune. 



' In this manner I went from town to town, 

 worked when I could get employment, and 

 starved when I could get none: when happen- 

 ing one day to go through a field belonging 

 to a justice of peace, I spyed a hare crossing 

 the path just before me; and I believe the 

 devil put it in my head to Hing my stick at 

 it: Well, what will you have on't ? 1 killed 

 the hare, and was bringing it away, when the 

 justice himself met me: he called me a 

 poacher and a villain ; and collaring me, de- 

 sired I would give an account of myself; I 

 fell upon my knees, begged his worship's par- 

 don, and began to give a lull account of all 

 that I knew of my breed, seed, and genera- 

 tion ; but, though I gave a very true account, 

 the justice said I could give no account ; so I 

 was indicted at the sessions, found guilty of 

 being poor, and sent up to London to New- 

 gate, in order to be transported as a vagabond. 



k People may say this and that of being in 

 jail ; but, for my part, I found Newgate as 

 agreeable a place as ever I was in, in al! my 

 life. I had my belly full to eat and drink, and 

 did no work at all. This kind of life was too 

 good to last for ever ; so I was taken out of 

 prison, after five months, puton board a ship, 

 and sent off, with two hundred more, to the 

 plantations. We had but an indifferent pas- 

 sage, for, being all confined in the hold, more 

 than a hundred of our people died for want 

 of sweet air; and those that remained were 

 sickly enough, God knows. When we came 

 a-shore, we were sold to the planters, and I 

 was bound for seven years more. As I was 

 no scholar, for 1 did not know my letters, I 

 was obliged to work among the negroes ; 

 and 1 served out my time, as in duty bound 

 to do. 



'When my time was expired. I worked my 

 passage home, and glad I was to see old 

 England again, because I loved my country. 

 1 was afraid, however, that I should be in- 

 dicted for a vagabond once more, go did not 



