le his
gayety was commonly uppermost till that loathsome distemper, called
the jail fever, broke out in the prison. Tom Crew, the ring-leader
in all their evil practices, was first seized with it. Jack staid a
little while with his comrade to assist and divert him, but of
assistance he could give little, and the very thought of diversion
was now turned into horror. He soon caught the distemper, and that
in so dreadful a degree, that his life was in great danger. Of those
who remained in health not a soul came near him, though he shared
his last farthing with them. He had just sense enough left to feel
this cruelty. Poor fellow! he did not know before, that the
friendship of the worldly is at an end when there is no more drink
or diversion to be had. He lay in the most deplorable condition; his
body tormented with a dreadful disease, and his soul terrified and
amazed at the approach of death: that death which he thought at so
great a distance, and of which his comrades had so often assured
him, that a young fellow of five and twenty was in no danger. Poor
Jack! I can not help feeling for him. Without a shilling! without a
friend! without one comfort respecting this world, and, what is far
more terrible, without one hope respecting the next.

Let not the young reader fancy that Brown's misery arose entirely
from his altered circumstances. It was not merely his being in want,
and sick, and in prison, which made his condition so desperate. Many
an honest man unjustly accused, many a persecuted saint, many a holy
martyr has enjoyed sometimes more peace and content in a prison than
wicked men have ever tasted in the height of their prosperity. But
to any such comforts, to any comfort at all, poor Jack was an utter
stranger.

A Christian friend generally comes forward at the very time when
worldly friends forsake the wretched. The other prisoners would not
come near Brown, though he had often entertained, and had never
offended them; even his own father was not moved with his sad
condition. When Mr. Stock informed him of it, he answered, "'Tis no
more than he deserves. As he brews so he must bake. He has made his
own bed, and let him lie in it." The hard old man had ever at his
tongue's end some proverb of hardness, or frugality, which he
contrived to turn in such a way as to excuse himself.

We shall now see how Mr. Stock behaved. He had his favorite sayings
too; but they were chiefly on the side of kindness, mercy, or so