fince they came home, he did not observe that the others were not exactly like them. As this was the only pofitive proof alledged againft Mary, the farmer now promised to give her no farther trouble; though he ftill knew she had entertained the robbers the day before; on this account he would by no means take her again into his houfe, but paid her the little wages due to her, and difmiffed her from his fervice. Mr. Heartwell, who was pleafed to find her account fo far true, tried to perfuade the Bouchers to let her stay with them a little while at least, as a juf tification of her character; but they were fo difgufted with her having kept up the acquaintance with these bad people, in defiance of their orders and her own promifes, that they could not think themselves fafe with fuch a fervant in the house. And Mr. Heartwell, with all the compaffion he felt for her, could not venture to prefs them, nor to anfwer for her future conduct. However, he promifed that if fhe kept her prefent refolutions, he would befriend her as much as he could. He put fome proper books into her hands and took her to her mother, whom they found almost distracted by the news which had reached her, of her daughter having been taken up for a robbery; the poor woman every day grew worse after this fhock, and some weeks after, her wretched daughter received her dying forgiveness, but could never forgive herself for the anguifh fhe had caused her mother, which fhe was perfuaded had haftened her end.

Poor Mary had another forrow. In the vil lage where he had lived with farmer Boucher, was a creditable baker, his fon Thomas was bred up to the bufinefs, and was a very honeft, fober, agreeable young man. He had often bestowed kind looks and kind words on Mary, but had not ventured to make her an offer, as he thought his father would never confent to his marrying fo poor a girl. She, on her fide, liked him well enough to wish he would speak out. A little before the unfortunate affair at Boucher's the old baker died, his fon fucceeded to his fhop and all his property, and was well efteemed. Whilft poor Mary was nurfing her dying mother, this young man had occafion to call at Mr. Heartwell's, who overheard him in talk with his maid Bridget about Mary, and lament the fad difgrace that had befallen her, he added, "I am fure it has been a great concern to me, for I own I liked the young woman; and now that I am my own mafter fhould have tried to obtain her for my wife, had fhe preferved a better character." Bridget put in a good word for her and affured him that her mafter believed her entirely innocent of the robbery; to this he replied, whether fhe had any knowledge of the wicked intentions of thofe vile fervants nobody can know, but thus much has been clearly proved, that the denied the truth of their having been with her, and had broke her folemn promises to her mistress, by keeping them company for fome time, therefore fhe is no wife for me.

I could not be happy unless I could make a friend of my wife, and depend on her truth and faithfulness. Her pretty face and good humor would be nothing to me, without truth and honefty. Next to a good confcience, the best thing is a good character. I blefs God I have never forfeited my own; nor will I ever marry a woman that has loft her's." Mr. Heartwell was much pleafed with the young baker's way of thinking, and very forry that Mary had loft fuch a husband. As his chief concern was to complete the poor young creatures reformation, he thought nothing would make fo deep an impreffion on her mind as this mortifying confe quence of her ill behavior: he refolved on telling her all that the young man had faid. He did fo; and fhe took it fo much to heart that fhe never after held up her head. Her mother's death, which happened foon after, left her without any earthly comfort. What before was liking, was now changed into a ftrong affection; fhe faw what a happy lot would have been her's had she been as true and honest as the man fhe liked. She loft all her spirits, and her mind was always full of bitter remorse and shame. She thought fhe deferved all the mifery fhe felt, and only prayed that God would accept her forrow for her fin. She made no complaints; but her looks fhewed that health, as well as peace of mind, had forfaken her.

Her mother's death obliged her to quit the almfhouse, and fhe then told Mr. Heartwell

that she was unable to bear the difgrace fhe had brought upon herself in that neighborhood, and was refolved to go and get bread in fome diftant country, where fhe was not known. The good man, who felt like a father for every one of his flock when in distress, tried to footh her and to perfude her to stay where fhe was, and to look to her heavenly friend, but he could not prevail. She could not bear the thoughts of living near Thomas, whom she had loft for ever. So the vicar gave her what he could spare to pay her journey, and maintain her 'till she could get an employment; he then gave her a letter to a clergyman who lived about fifty miles off, begging him to get her into fome honeft fervice. She took leave of him with an almoft broken heart, and grew fo ill and weak on her journey, that when the carried her letter to the clergyman, he told her fhe appeared too ill for fervice. In a few days fhe grew a little better, told him fhe thought fhe could now get her bread if he would have the goodnefs to recommend her: that she cared not how low the place or the wages were if she could but be maintained, and would do all in her power to give fatisfaction. He foon got her into a fervice, hard labor foon haftened on a decline which her forrows had begun, and fhe foon became fo ill that nothing better could be done for her than to place her in an hofpital.

Whilft fhe was there, a letter from Mr. Heartwell informed her that her vile feducers were

taken, tried, and executed. The spoons were claimed by Elizabeth Bearcroft, Mr. Banks's housekeeper. Sarah Fisher had found them locked up in a cupboard after the rest of the ftolen plate was packed up. She put them into her pocket as she was going to farmer Boucher's on the Sunday, but recollecting that perhaps the marks upon them might lead to her detection, in cafe of misfortune, fhe fuddenly took it into her head, as she was going away, to leave them with Mary, as before related. Mr. Heartwell had taken the pains to vifit thefe people in prifon after their condemnation, and had got from the woman a confirmation of the poor girl's account. Mary languifhed feveral weeks in the hofpital, and meekly applied her whole mind to obtain the forgiveness of God, through the merits of a Saviour

The good clergyman affifted her in the great work of repentance, and pointed out to her the only true grounds on which fhe could hope to obtain it.

Thus death, brought on by grief and fhame at eighteen years of age, was the confequence of bad company, falfe promifes, and FALSE EXCUSES.-May all who read this ftory, learn to walk in the ftraight paths of truth. The way of duty is the way of fafety. But "the wicked fleeth when no man purfueth, while the righteous is bold as a lion."

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