supply my expenses from England, for though it was
not his business to inquire, yet he ought to think I did not bring a
great deal of money out with me, it not being usual to bring much money
into that country. Then he pulled out his grandmother's will, and read
it over to me, whereby it appeared that she had left a small
plantation, as he called it, on York River, that is, where my mother
lived, to me, with the stock of servants and cattle upon it, and given
it in trust to this son of mine for my use, whenever he should hear of
my being alive, and to my heirs, if I had any children, and in default
of heirs, to whomsoever I should by will dispose of it; but gave the
income of it, till I should be heard of, or found, to my said son; and
if I should not be living, then it was to him, and his heirs.

This plantation, though remote from him, he said he did not let out,
but managed it by a head-clerk (steward), as he did another that was
his father's, that lay hard by it, and went over himself three or four
times a year to look after it. I asked him what he thought the
plantation might be worth. He said, if I would let it out, he would
give me about #60 a year for it; but if I would live on it, then it
would be worth much more, and, he believed, would bring me in about
#150 a year. But seeing I was likely either to settle on the other
side of the bay, or might perhaps have a mind to go back to England
again, if I would let him be my steward he would manage it for me, as
he had done for himself, and that he believed he should be able to send
me as much tobacco to England from it as would yield me about #100 a
year, sometimes more.

This was all strange news to me, and things I had not been used to; and
really my heart began to look up more seriously than I think it ever
did before, and to look with great thankfulness to the hand of
Providence, which had done such wonders for me, who had been myself the
greatest wonder of wickedness perhaps that had been suffered to live in
the world. And I must again observe, that not on this occasion only,
but even on all other occasions of thankfulness, my past wicked and
abominable life never looked so monstrous to me, and I never so
completely abhorred it, and reproached myself with it, as when I had a
sense upon me of Providence doing good to me, while I had been making
those vile returns on my part.

But I leave the reader to improve these thoughts, as no doubt they will
see cau