great quickness of parts in the girl, and an extraordinary desire of learning (for every leisure hour she was always found reading in the books of the scholars) had the goodnature, or folly (just as the reader pleases to call it), to instruct her so far, that she obtained a competent skill in the Latin language, and was, perhaps, as good a scholar as most of the young men of quality of the age. This advantage, however, like most others of an extraordinary kind, was attended with some small inconveniences for as it is not to be wondered at, that a young woman so well accomplished should have little relish for the society of those whom fortune had made her equals, but whom education had rendered so much her inferiors; so is it a matter of no greater astonishment, that this superiority in Jenny, together with that behaviour which is its certain consequence, should produce among the rest some little envy and ill-will towards her; and these had, perhaps, secretly burnt in the bosoms of her neighbours ever since her return from her service.

Their envy did not, however, display itself openly, till poor Jenny, to the surprise of every body, and to the vexation of all the young women in these parts, had publicly shone forth on a Sunday, in a new silk gown, with a laced cap, and other proper appendages to these.

The flame, which had before lain in embryo, now burst forth. Jenny had, by her learning, increased her own pride, which none of her neighbours were kind enough to feed with the honour she seemed to demand; and now, instead of respect and adoration, she gained nothing but hatred and abuse by her finery. The whole parish declared she could not come honestly by such things; and parents, instead of wishing their daughters the same, felicitated themselves that their children had them not.

Hence perhaps it was, that the good woman first mentioned the name of this poor girl to Mrs. Wilkins; but

there was another circumstance that confirmed the latter in her suspicion; for Jenny had lately been often at Mr. Allworthy's house. She had officiated as nurse to Miss Bridget, in a violent fit of illness, and had sat up many nights with that lady; besides which, she had been seen there the very day before Mr. Allworthy's return, by Mrs. Wilkins herself, though that sagacious person had not at first conceived any suspicion of her on that account: for, as she herself said, She had always esteemed Jenny as a very sober girl (though indeed she knew very little of her), and had rather suspected some of those wanton trollops, who gave themselves airs, because, forsooth, they thought themselves handsome.

Jenny was now summoned to appear in person before Mrs. Deborah, which she immediately did. When Mrs. Deborah, putting on the gravity of a judge, with somewhat more than his austerity, began an oration with the words, 'You audacious strumpet,' in which she proceeded rather to pass sentence on the prisoner than to accuse her.

Though Mrs. Deborah was fully satisfied of the guilt of Jenny, from the reasons above shown, it is possible Mr. Allworthy might have required some stronger evidence to have convicted her; but she saved her accusers any such trouble, by freely confessing the whole fact with which she was charged.

This confession, though delivered rather in terms of contrition, as it appeared, did not at all mollify Mrs. Deborah, who now pronounced a second judgment against her, in more opprobious language than before: nor had it any better success with the byestanders, who were now grown very numerous. Many of them cried out, They thought what Madam's silk gown would end in; others spoke sarcastically of her learning. Not a single female was present, but found some means of

expressing her abhorrence of poor Jenny; who bore all very patiently, except the malice of one woman, who reflected upon her person, and tossing up her nose, said, 'The man must have a good stomach who 'would give silk gowns for such sort of trumpery.' Jenny replied to this, with a bitterness which might have surprised a judicious person, who had observed the tranquillity with which she bore all the affronts to her chastity: but her patience perhaps was tired out; for this is a virtue which is very apt to be fatigued by exercise.

Mrs. Deborah having succeeded beyond her hopes in her enquiry, returned with much triumph, and, at the appointed hour, made a faithful report to Mr. Allworthy, who was much surprised at the relation; for he had heard of the extraordinary parts and improvements of this girl, whom he intended to have given in marriage, together with a small living, to a neighbouring curate. His concern, therefore, on this occasion, was at least equal to the satisfaction which appeared in Mrs. Deborah, and to many readers may seem much more reasonable.

Mrs. Bridget blessed herself, and said, For her part she should never hereafter entertain a good opinion of any woman. For Jenny before this had the happiness of being much in her good graces also.

The prudent housekeeper was again dispatched to bring the unhappy culprit before Mr. Allworthy, in order, not, as it was hoped by some, and expected by all, to be sent to the house of correction, but to receive wholesome admonition and reproof; which those who relish that kind of instructive writing may peruse in the next chapter.

CHAPTER VII.

Containing such grave matter, that the reader cannot laugh once through the whole chapter, unless peradventure he should laugh at the Author.

WHEN Jenny appeared, Mr. Allworthy took her into his study and spoke to her as follows: 'You know, child, it is in my power, as a magistrate, to punish you very rigorously for what you have done; and you will, perhaps, be the more apt to fear I should execute 'that power, because you have in a manner laid your 'sins at my door.

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But perhaps this is one reason which hath deter'mined me to act in a milder manner with you: for, as เ no private resentment should ever influence a magisเ trate, I will be so far from considering your having deposited the infant in my house as an aggravation 'of your offence, that I will suppose, in your favour, 'this to have proceeded from a natural affection to your เ child; since you might have some hopes to see it thus 'better provided for, than was in the power of yourself, เ or its wicked father, to provide for it. I should indeed have been highly offended with you, had you exposed the little wretch in the manner of some inhuman เ mothers, who seem no less to have abandoned their เ humanity, than to have parted with their chastity. It 'is the other part of your offence, therefore, upon which 'I intend to admonish you, I mean the violation of your 'chastity;—a crime, however lightly it may be treated 'by debauched persons, very heinous in itself, and very ' dreadful in its consequences.

The heinous nature of this offence must be suffi'ciently apparent to every Christian, inasmuch as it is

'committed in defiance of the laws of our religion, 'and of the express commands of Him who founded 'that religion.

'And here its consequences may be well argued to be 'dreadful; for what can be more so, than to incur the 'divine displeasure, by the breach of the divine commands; and that in an instance against which the 'highest vengeance is specifically denounced?

But these things, though too little, I am afraid, regarded, are so plain, that mankind, however they may 'want to be reminded, can never need information on 'this head. A hint therefore, to awaken your sense of 'this matter, shall suffice; for I would inspire you with 6 repentance, and not drive you to desperation.

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'There are other consequences, not indeed so dreadful 'or replete with horror as this; and yet such as, if 'attentively considered, must, one would think, deter 'all of your sex at least from the commission of this 'crime.

'For by it you are rendered infamous, and driven, like 'lepers of old, out of society; at least from the society of all but wicked and reprobate persons; for no others 'will associate with you.

If you have fortunes, you are hereby rendered incapable of enjoying them; if you have none, you are 'disabled from acquiring any, nay almost of procuring your sustenance; for no persons of character will ' receive you into their houses. Thus you are often 'driven by necessity itself into a state of shame and 'misery, which unavoidably ends in the destruction of 'both body and soul.

'Can any pleasure compensate these evils? Can any 'temptation have sophistry and delusion strong enough 'to persuade you to so simple a bargain? Or can any carnal appetite so overpower your reason, or so totally

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