Life of Count Rumford. 225 



tc Though destitute of proper earthly protection I seemed 

 favored by a divine Providence, in the midst of temptations 

 remaining unshaken. Playing this horrible game of /<?, and 

 always winning it, gave me not the least inclination to continue 

 it. Thus, I say, with all our troubles, there is a kind Provi- 

 dence, and ways pointed out to us if we will but pursue them." 



She was wind-bound for three weeks off the Scilly 

 Isles. 



" My protectors were a Captain and Mrs. Bennet, and a 

 Mr. Frasier of London : on arriving, I was to go to his house, 

 where I was to meet my father, Baron Thompson. The 

 Bennets were of Boston. Mrs. Bennet and I walked all around 

 the Island of St. Mary's, picking up pebble-stones on the sea- 

 shore ; but we had to have recourse to our old method of 

 passing time, that of playing cards. The captain coming from 

 his ship, the commandant (so-called) of the place, besides an 

 officer, joining us, the only people we saw, as may be said, 

 companionable in the place, we would be set down daily at 

 some round gambling game. It is said of people beginning to 

 play, that they are generally lucky. Undoubtedly it is the case, 

 tempted by his satanic Majesty. For myself, I won all the time ; 

 winning at least the cost of my passage twice over of the cap- 

 tain. But when we got to London my father would not let 

 me take any of the money ; yet he or I must have paid it had I 

 lost." 



The party landed at Portsmouth, and took post 

 chaises for London. 



" Count Rumford, my father, having passed several preced-. 

 ing years at Munich, in Bavaria, had come to England to have 

 published some of his Essays. He took the opportunity to send 

 for me, my mother being dead, and I requiring protection. 

 Many were the scenes he had passed through after leaving me 

 as an infant, and erroneous were the ideas I had formed of him, 

 particularly of his appearance ; we having had only a small pro- 

 file of him in shade, giving ever an imperfect idea of the person. 



