CHAPTER VI.

1669-1670.

By the time we came back from this journey, the summer was pretty far gone, and the following winter I spent with the children of the family as before, without any remarkable alteration in my circumstances, until the next spring, when I found in myself a disposition of mind to change my single life for a married state.

I had always entertained so high a regard for marriage, as it was a divine institution, that I held it not lawful to make it a sort of political trade, to rise in the world by. And therefore, as I could not but in my judgment blame such as I found made it their business to hunt after, and endeavonr to gain, those who were accounted great fortunes,—not so much regarding what she is, as what she has, and making wealth the chief, if not the only thing they aimed at,- -so I resolved to avoid in my own practice that course; and how much soever my condition might have prompted me, as well as others, to seek advantage that way, never to engage on the account of riches, nor at all to marry, till judicious affection drew me to it, which I now began to feel at work in my breast.

The object of this affection was a Friend, whose name

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was Mary Ellis, whom for divers years I had had an acquaintance with, in the way of common friendship only; and in whom I thought I then saw those fair prints of truth and solid virtue, which I afterwards found in a sublime degree in her; but what her condition in the world was as to estate, I was wholly a stranger to, nor desired to know.

I had once, a year or two before, had an opportunity to do her a small piece of service, which she wanted some assistance in: wherein I acted with all sincerity and freedom of mind, not expecting or desiring any advantage by her, or reward from her, being very well satisfied in the act itself, that I had served a friend, and helped the helpless.

That little intercourse of common kindness between us ended, without the least thought, I am verily persuaded, on her part, well assured on my own, of any other or further relation than that of free and fair friendship; nor did it, at that time, lead us into any closer conversation, or more intimate acquaintance one with the other, than had been before.

But some time after, I found my heart secretly drawn and inclining towards her; yet was I not hasty in proposing, but waited to feel a satisfactory settlement of mind therein, before I made any step thereto. After some time, I took an opportunity to open my mind therein to my much honoured friends Isaac and Mary Penington, who then stood in the place or stead of parents to me. They having solemnly weighed the matter, expressed their unity therewith; and indeed

their approbation thereof was no small confirmation to me therein. Yet took I further deliberation, often retiring in spirit to the Lord, and crying to him for direction, before I addressed myself to her. At length, as I was sitting all alone, waiting upon the Lord for counsel and guidance in this, in itself, and to me so important affair, I felt a word sweetly arise in me, as if I had heard a voice, which said, "Go, and prevail." And faith springing in my heart with the word, I immediately arose and went, nothing doubting.

When I was come to her lodgings, which were about a mile from me, her maid told me she was in her chamber, for having been under some indisposition of body, which had obliged her to keep her chamber, she had not yet left it; wherefore I desired the maid to acquaint her mistress, that I was come to give her a visit; whereupon I was invited to go up to her. And after some little time spent in common conversation, feeling my spirit weightily concerned, I solemnly opened my mind unto her, with respect to the particular business I came about; which I soon perceived was a great surprisal to her, for she had taken in an apprehension, as others also had done, that mine eye had been fixed elsewhere, and nearer home.

I used not many words to her; but I felt a divine power went along with the words, and fixed the matter expressed by them so fast in her breast, that, as she afterwards acknowledged to me, she could not shut it out.

I made at that time but a short visit. For having told her I did not expect an answer from her now, but

desired she would, in the most solemn manner, weigh the proposal made, and in due time give me such an answer thereunto as the Lord should give her, I took my leave of her, and departed, leaving the issue to

the Lord.

I had a journey then at hand, which I foresaw would take about two weeks' time. Wherefore, the day before I was to to set out, I went to visit her again, to acquaint her with my journey, and excuse my absence; not yet pressing her for an answer, but assuring her, that I felt in myself an increase of affection to her, and hoped to receive a suitable return from her in the Lord's time; to whom, in the mean time, I committed both her, myself, and the concern between us. And indeed I found, at my return, that I could not have left it in a better hand; for the Lord had been my advocate in my absence, and had so far answered all her objections, that when I came to her again, she rather acquainted me with them than urged them.

From that time forward, we entertained each other with affectionate kindness, in order to marriage; which yet we did not hasten to, but went on deliberately. Neither did I use those vulgar ways of courtship, by making frequent and rich presents; not only for that my outward condition would not comport with the expense, but because I liked not to obtain by such means; but preferred an unbribed affection.

While this affair stood thus with me, I had occasion to take another journey into Kent and Sussex; which yet I would not mention here, but for a particular

way. The occasion of

accident which befel me on the this journey was this. Mary Penington's daughter Guli intending to go to her uncle Springett's, in Sussex, and from thence amongst her tenants, her mother desired me to accompany her, and assist her in her business with her tenants.

We tarried at London the first night, and set out next morning on the Tunbridge Road, and Seven Oak lying in our way, we put in there to bait. But truly, we had much ado to get either provisions or room for ourselves or our horses, the house was so filled with guests, and those not of the better sort. For the Duke of York being, as we were told, on the road that day for the wells, divers of his guards, and the meaner sort of his retinue, had nearly filled all the inns there.

I left John Gigger, who waited on Guli in this journey, and was afterwards her menial servant, to take care for the horses, while I did the like, as well as I could, for her. I got a little room to put her into, and having shut her into it, went to see what relief the kitchen would afford us; and with much adc, by praying hard and paying dear, I got a small joint of meat from the spit, which served rather to stay than satisfy our stomachs, for we were all pretty sharp set.

After this short repast, being weary of our quarters, we quickly mounted, and took the road again, willing to hasten from a place where we found nothing but rudeness. A knot of rude people soon followed us, designing, as we afterwards found, to put an abuse upon us, and make themselves sport with us. We