Thus wound she herself into my affections, by an
unexampled perseverance in seeming kindness; by tender confidence; by
artful glosses of past misconduct; by self-rebukes and feigned
contritions. "Never were stratagems so intricate, dissimulation so profound! But
still, that such a one should seduce my husband; young, generous,
ambitious, impatient of contumely and reproach, and surely not
indifferent; before this fatal intercourse, not indifferent to his wife
and child!--Yet so it was! "I saw his discontents; his struggles; I heard him curse this woman, and
the more deeply for my attempts, unconscious as I was of her
machinations, to reconcile them to each other, to do away what seemed a
causeless indignation, or antipathy against her. How little I suspected
the nature of the conflict in his heart, between a new passion and the
claims of pride; of conscience and of humanity; the claims of a child
and a wife; a wife, already in affliction, and placing all that yet
remained of happiness, in the firmness of his virtue; in the continuance
of his love; a wife, at the very hour of his meditated flight, full of
terrors at the near approach of an event whose agonies demand a double
share of a husband's supporting, encouraging love----

"Good Heaven! For what evils are some of thy creatures reserved! Resignation to thy decree, in the last and most cruel distress, was,
indeed, a hard task. "He was gone. Some unavoidable engagement calling him to Hamburg was
pleaded. Yet to leave me at such an hour! I dared not upbraid, nor
object. The tale was so specious! The fortunes of a friend depended on
his punctual journey. The falsehood of his story too soon made itself
known. He was gone, in company with his detested paramour! "Yet, though my vigilance was easily deceived, it was not so with
others. A creditor, who had his bond for three thousand pounds, pursued
and arrested him at Harwich. He was thrown into prison, but his
companion--let me, at least, say that in her praise--would not desert
him. She took lodging near the place of his confinement, and saw him
daily. That, had she not done it, and had my personal condition allowed,
should have been my province. "Indignation and grief hastened the painful crisis with me. I did not
weep that the second fruit of this unhappy union saw not the light. I
wept only that this hour of agony was not, to its unfortunate mother,
the last. "I felt not anger; I had nothing but compassion for Fielding. Gladly
would I have recalled him to my arms and to virtue; I wrote, adjuring
him, by all our past joys, to return; vowing only gratitude for his new
affection, and claiming only the recompense of seeing him restored to
his family; to liberty; to reputation. "But, alas! Fielding had a good but a proud heart. He looked upon his
error with remorse, with self-detestation, and with the fatal belief
that it could not be retrieved; shame made him withstand all my
reasonings and persuasions, and, in the hurry of his feelings, he made
solemn vows that he would, in the moment of restored liberty, abjure his
country and his family forever. He bore indignantly the yoke of his new
attachment, but he strove in vain to shake it off. Her behaviour, always
yielding, doting, supplicative, preserved him in her fetters. Though
upbraided, spurned, and banished from his presence, she would not leave
him, but, by new efforts and new artifices, soothed, appeased, and won
again and kept his tenderness. "What my entreaties were unable to effect, his father could not hope to
accomplish. He offered to take him from prison; the creditor offered to
cancel the bond, if he would return to me; but this condition he
refused. All his kindred, and one who had been his bosom-friend from
childhood, joined in beseeching his compliance with these conditions;
but his pride, his dread of my merited reproaches, the merits and
dissuasions of his new companion, whose sacrifices for his sake had not
been small, were obstacles which nothing could subdue. "Far, indeed, was I from imposing these conditions. I waited only till,
by certain arrangements, I could gather enough to pay his debts, to
enable him to execute his vow: empty would have been my claims to his
affection, if I could have suffered, with the means of his deliverance
in my hands, my husband to remain a moment in prison. "The remains of my father's vast fortune was a jointure of a thousand
pounds a year, settled on my mother, and, after her death, on me. My
mother's helpless condition put this revenue into my disposal. By this
means was I enabled, without the knowledge of my father-in-law or my
husband, to purchase the debt, and dismiss him from prison. He set out
instantly, in company with his paramour, to France. "When somewhat recovered from the shock of this calamity, I took up my
abode with my mother. What she had was enough, as you perhaps will
think, for plentiful subsistence; but to us, with habits of a different
kind, it was little better than poverty. That reflection, my father's
memory, my mother's deplorable state, which every year grew worse, and
the late misfortune, were the chief companions of my thoughts. "The dear child, whose smiles were uninterrupted by his mother's
afflictions, was some consolation in my solitude. To his instruction and
to my mother's wants all my hours were devoted. I was sometimes not
without the hope of better days. Full as my mind was of Fielding's
merits, convinced by former proofs of his ardent and generous spirit, I
trusted that time and reflection would destroy that spell by which he
was now bound. "For some time, the progress of these reflections was not known. In
leaving England, Fielding dropped all correspondence and connection with
his native country. He parted with the woman at Rouen, leaving no trace
behind him by which she might follow him, as she wished to do. She never
returned to England, but died a twelvemonth afterwards in Switzerland. "As to me, I had only to muse day and night upon the possible destiny of
this beloved fugitive. His incensed father cared not for him. He had
cast him out of his paternal affections, ceased to make inquiries
respecting him, and even wished never to hear of him again. My boy
succeeded to my husband's place in his grandfather's affections, and in
the hopes and views of the family; and his mother wanted nothing which
their compassionate and respectful love could bestow. "Three long and tedious years passed away, and no tidings were received. Whether he were living or dead, nobody could tell. At length, an English
traveller, going out of the customary road from Italy, met with
Fielding, in a town in the Venaissin. His manners, habits, and language,
had become French. He seemed unwilling to be recognised by an old
acquaintance, but, not being able to avoid this, and becoming gradually
familiar, he informed the traveller of many particulars in his present
situation.