repose, Jane stole from her chamber to meet her lover in the grove, and wandered whole hours, guided by Cynthia’s reflecting light; Henry, breathing all the vows of an impassioned lover, and Jane listening with delight. For some months did the dear delusion last; and the breast of Jane was the abode of love, innocence, and hope, till one fatal hour when the guardian angel of virtue slept, and the demon of vice reigned triumphant, the ill-fated Jane surrendered her virtue to the importunities of the deceitful Henry, and bade adieu to peace for ever—till she sunk to the narrow confines of the grave. Ah, ye fair daughters of the earth! Nature's choicest work, did you rightly consider the pre-eminence of virtue, and your own conscious dignity, how few, if any, would depart from the path pointed out by rectitude, religion, and honour!
At the next interview that took place between Henry and our unfortunate maiden; after the fatal triumph of the former, her swoln eyes, and altered countenance, declared the poignancy of her feelings, and that remorse had already taken possession of her soul. Henry exerted all his eloquence to soothe her griefs; even his callous heart received a pang at her altered appearance. His arguments renewed her smiles; and he promised to repair to London in a few weeks, and seek for a situation in some commercial house, that should enable him to maintain his lovely Jane. In case their father should be offended at their marriage, the solemnization of which was
