which, I must beg leave to observe, that she never before would drink out of any other cup, than one which she called her own, different from this, and which I drank out of on that and most other mornings.  It has been farther said, that Dame Emmet, a charwoman, was likewise hurt by drinking tea at my father’s house:  be pleased to remember, Reader, that I mixed it but in one cup, and then threw it away.  Susan said, she drank out of the cup and was ill, what then could hurt this woman, who to my knowledge was not at our house that day?  Mr. Nicholas, an apothecary, attended this old woman in the first sickness they talk of, which, by Susan, I understood was a weakness common to her, viz. fainting fits and purging; and I know, that she had had fainting fits many times before.  When I heard she was ill, I ordered Susan to send her whey, broth, or any thing that she thought would be proper for her.  She had long served the family, would joke and divert me, and I loved her extremely.  Nor can my enemies themselves (let them paint me how they please) deny that from my heart I pitied the poor.  I never felt more pleasure, than when I fed the hungry, cloathed the naked, and supplied the wants of those in distress.  Had God blessed me with a more plentiful fortune, I should have exerted myself in this more; and I flatter myself, that the poor and indigent of our town will do me justice in this particular, and own that I was not wanting in my duty towards them.  But to proceed in my account:  I would not fix on any other charwoman; and Susan said, that Dame Emmet would, she thought, by my goodness, soon get strength to work again.  I told her, was it ever so long I would stay for her.  I mixed the powder, as was said before, on the Sunday, and on the Tuesday wrote to Mr. Cranstoun, that it would not mix in tea, and that I would not try it any more, lest my father should find it out.  This has been brought against me by many:  but let any one consider, if the discovery of such a procedure as this, would not have excited anger, and consequently have been followed by resentment in my father.  This might have occasioned a total separation of me from Mr. Cranstoun, a thing I at that time dreaded more than even death itself.  In answer to this letter, I had one from him to assure me the powder was innocent, and to beg I would give it in gruel, or something thicker than tea.  Many more letters to the same effect I received, before I would give it again; but most fatally, on the 5th August, I gave it to my poor father, innocent of the effects it afterwards produced, God knows; not so stupid as to believe it would have that desired, to make him kind to us; but in obedience to Mr. Cranstoun, who ever seemed superstitions to the last degree, and had, as I thought, and have declared before, all the just notions of the necessity of my father’s life for him, me, and ours.  On the Monday the 5th, as has been said, I mixed the powder in his gruel, and at night it was in a half-pint