'that you would one time or other have it in your power 'to make my fortune.' Jones assured him, that this boding should as certainly be verified with regard to him, as all the other omens had been to himself, which did not a little add to all the raptures which the poor fellow had already conceived on account of his master.

CHAPTER XII.

Approaching still nearer to the end.

JONES being now completely dressed, attended his uncle to Mr. Western's. He was, indeed, one of the finest figures ever beheld, and his person alone would have charmed the greater part of womankind; but we hope it hath already appeared in this history, that nature, when she formed him, did not totally rely, as she sometimes doth, on this merit only, to recommend her work.

Sophia, who, angry as she was, was likewise set forth to the best advantage, for which I leave my female readers to account, appeared so extremely beautiful, that even Allworthy, when he saw her, could not forbear whispering Western, that he believed she was the finest creature in the world. To which Western answered, in a whisper overheard by all present,' So much the better 'for Tom;--for d-n me if he shan't ha the tousling 'her.' Sophia was all over scarlet at these words, while Tom's countenance was altogether as pale, and he was almost ready to sink from his chair.

The tea-table was scarce removed, before Western lugged Allworthy out of the room, telling him, he had business of consequence to impart, and must speak to him that instant in private, before he forgot it.

The lovers were now alone, and it will, I question not, appear strange to many readers, that those who had so much to say to one another when danger and difficulty attended their conversation: and who seemed so eager to rush into each other's arms, when so many bars lay in their way, now that with safety they were at liberty to say or do whatever they pleased, should both remain for some time silent and motionless; insomuch that a stranger of moderate sagacity might have well concluded, they were mutually indifferent; but so it was, however strange it may seem; both sat with their eyes cast downwards on the ground, and for some minutes continued in perfect silence.

Mr. Jones, during this interval attempted once or twice to speak, but was absolutely incapable, muttering only, or rather sighing out some broken words; when Sophia at length, partly out of pity to him, and partly to turn the discourse from the subject which she knew well enough he was endeavouring to open, said ;

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'Sure, Sir, you are the most fortunate man in the 'world in this discovery.' 'And can you really, Madam, 'think me so fortunate,' said Jones, sighing, while I have incurred your Nay, Sir,' says she, as to that you best know whether you have de'served it.' 'Indeed, Madam,' answered he, 'you your'self are as well apprized of all my demerits. Mrs. 'Miller hath acquainted you with the whole truth. O! my Sophia, am I never to hope for forgiveness?''I think, Mr. Jones,' said she, I may almost depend 'on your own justice, and leave it to yourself to pass เ sentence on your own conduct.'- -Alas! Madam,' answered he, it is mercy, and not justice which I implore at your hands. Justice I know must condemn 'me. Yet not for the letter I sent to Lady Bellaston. 'Of that I most solemnly declare you have had a true

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account.' He then insisted much on the security given him by Nightingale, of a fair pretence for breaking off, if, contrary to their expectations, her ladyship should have accepted his offer; but confest, that he had been guilty of a great indiscretion, to put such a letter as that into her power, which,' said he, I have dearly paid for, in the effect it has upon you.' 'I do not, I cannot,' says she, believe otherwise of that letter than you would have me. My conduct, I think, shews you 'clearly I do not believe there is much in that. And

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yet, Mr. Jones, have I not enough to resent? After 'what past at Upton, so soon to engage in a new amour 'with another woman, while I fancied, and you pretended, your heart was bleeding for me? -Indeed, you have acted strangely. Can I believe the passion you have profest to me to be sincere? Or, if I can, 'what happiness can I assure myself of with a man capable of so much inconstancy?' 'O, my Sophia,' cries he, do not doubt the sincerity of the purest pas'sion that ever inflamed a human breast. Think, most 'adorable creature, of my unhappy situation, of my de'spair.--Could I, my Sophia, have flattered myself with the most distant hopes of being ever permitted เ to throw myself at your feet in the manner I do now, it would not have been in the power of any other woman to have inspired a thought which the severest 'chastity could have condemned. Inconstancy to you! 'O Sophia! if you can have goodness enough to pardon 'what is past, do not let any cruel future apprehensions 'shut your mercy against me. -No repentance was ever more sincere. O! let it reconcile me to my 'heaven in this dear bosom.' 'Sincere repentance, Mr. 'Jones,' answered she, will obtain the pardon of a sinner, but it is from one who is a perfect judge of that sincerity. A human mind may be imposed on;

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'nor is there any infallible method to prevent it. You 'must expect, however, that if I can be prevailed on by your repentance to pardon you, I will at least 'insist on the strongest proof of its sincerity.'- Name

any proof in my power,' answered Jones eagerly. 'Time,' replied she; 'Time alone, Mr. Jones, can con'vince me that you are a true penitent, and have resolved to abandon these vicious courses, which I should detest you for, if I imagined you capable of persevering in เ them.'' 'Do not imagine it,' cries Jones. 'On my

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' knees I entreat, I implore your confidence, a confidence 'which it shall be the business of my life to deserve.' 'Let it then,' said she, 'be the business of some part 'of your life to shew me you deserve it. I think I have 'been explicit enough in assuring you, that when I see you merit my confidence, you will obtain it. After 'what is past, Sir, can you expect I should take you เ upon your word?'

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He replied, 'Don't believe me upon my word; I have a better security, a pledge for my constancy, which it 'is impossible to see and to doubt.' 'What is that?' said Sophia, a little surprised. I will shew you, my 'charming angel,' cries Jones, seizing her hand, and carrying her to the glass. There, behold it there in 'that lovely figure, in that face, that shape, those eyes, 'that mind which shines through these eyes; can the man who shall be in possession of these be inconstant? Impossible! my Sophia; they would fix a Dorimant, a 'Lord Rochester. You could not doubt it, if you could see yourself with any eyes but your own.' Sophia blushed, and half smiled; but forcing again her brow into a frown-' If I am to judge,' said she,' of the future by the past, my image will no more remain in your ' heart when I am out of your sight, than it will in this glass when I am out of the room.' 'By heaven, by all

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that is sacred!' said Jones, 'it never was out of my ' heart. The delicacy of your sex cannot conceive the grossness of ours, nor how little one sort of amour ' has to do with the heart.' 'I will never marry a man,' replied Sophia, very gravely, 'who shall not learn refinement enough to be as incapable as I am myself of making such a distinction.' 'I will learn it,' said Jones. I have learnt it already. The first moment of hope 'that my Sophia might be my wife, taught it me at once; ' and all the rest of her sex from that moment became as 'little the objects of desire to my sense, as of passion to

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my heart.' 'Well,' said Sophia, the proof of this 'must be from time. Your situation, Mr. Jones, is now 'altered, and I assure you I have great satisfaction in the 'alteration. You will now want no opportunity of being near me, and convincing me that your mind is altered เ too." 'O! my angel,' cries Jones, how shall I thank thy goodness! And are you so good to own, that you have a satisfaction in my prosperity ?-Believe me, 'believe me, Madam, it is you alone have given a relish 'to that prosperity, since I owe to it the dear hope'O! my Sophia, let it not be a distant one.-I will be all ' obedience to your commands. I will not dare to press any thing further than you permit me. Yet let me 'entreat you to appoint a short trial. O! tell me, when 'I may expect you will be convinced of what is most 'solemnly true.' "When I have gone voluntarily thus far, Mr. Jones,' said she, I expect not to be pressed. Nay, I will not.'-'O! don't look unkindly thus, my 'Sophia,' cries he. 'I do not, I dare not press you.— 'Yet permit me at least once more to beg you would fix 'the period. O! consider the impatience of love.'

A twelvemonth, perhaps,' said she. 'O! my Sophia,' cries he, 'you have named an eternity.'-'Perhaps, it may be something sooner,' says she; 'I will not be