46 Glimpses of Our Ancestors.
man cunninger than the rest, that was sure to bid the last man, and to carry it; and inquiring the reason, he told me that just as the flame goes out the smoke descends, which is a thing I never observed before, and by that he did know the instant when to bid last."
Few of our readers, we take it, have ever heard of "pandles." It was "the good old Sussex word (so says Mr. Lower) for shrimps," which latter word is comparatively modern. Mr. Turner writes, " In the morn Fielder brought our herrings, but could get no pandles"
The fear of over-population had not yet come upon the nation. In fact, Mr. Thomas Turner evidently thought that there was room for a large increase:—
" Nov. 14. This day was married, at our church, Mr. Simonds Blackman and Mary his wife (alias Mary Margenson). She being under age, some months agoe they went into Flanders, and was married at a place called Ypres; but, as this marriage was not in all respects agreeable to the laws of England, in regard to their issue enjoying the gentleman's estate, they was married this day by a licence, which styled her Mary Margison, otherwise Blackman. In my own own private oppinion I think, instead of making laws to restrain marriage, it would be more to the advantage of the nation to give encouragement to it; for by that means a great deal of debauchery would, in all probability, be prevented, and a greater increase of people might be the consequence, which, I presume, would be real benefit to the nation; and I think it is the first command of the Parent and Governor of the universe, 'increase and multiply,' and the observation of St. Paul is, that ' marriage is honourable in all men.' "
But then at this particular moment the mind of our diarist was again directed towards matrimony. He had lost his " dear Peggy," and is as melancholy under the affliction of her death as he was in her life-time under the infliction of her temper. There can be but little doubt that he did value her highly, though his grief is probably a little exaggerated when he says, "with the incomparable Mr. Young" (" Night Thoughts"), "Let them who ever lost an angel pity me!" Perhaps there was a twinge of remorse, for past entries to the prejudice of " dear Peggy," in the outbursts that now meet us, or perhaps (and we think this is the fact), in the absence of Mrs. Turner, his old temptation proved too strong for him. There are signs of it. " I lodged at Joshua Durrant's, and