sweet daughter of trial and of fortitude-this example of love and reason, in our travels with Charles and Rowland; when we trust we shall find her triumphing over the disappointments which principle has fortified her to encounter; and, led by a gracious Providence in the right way, travelling along the journey of life with a more disinterested, congenial, and christian companion to the eternal city of habitation.

CHAPTER XX.

THE THEATRE, AND CLARA'S HISTORY

ROWLAND meanwhile spent his days at his friend Peachman's. This gentleman frequently told Rowland of the delights of the theatre, which he often attended with the same desire to gratify his taste and curiosity as he attended popular preachers. "It is a place," said he, "o. pleasant exhibitions and good acting, where the finest sentiments are uttered with a voice, and gesture, and manner most appropriate to the subject ;" and he advised him to attend with him to learn how to speak as an orator, with a tone and manner suited to the subject, as well as to understand what a play was, and to gratify his taste with the exquisite scenery there displayed. Rowland's curiosity was excited by the description, and his scruples were quieted. At length, after repeated persua sion, he was prevailed upon to go; box tickets were procured, and, according to the fashion of that day, his hair was dressed with abundance of powder and pomatum, and formed in a cue behind to make him a guest suitably adorned to grace the boxes. The play was Hamlet. The grandeur of the theatre, the splendour of the lights-the costume of the players; their skilful performance of their separate characters, true to the life; the solemnity thrown over the illusions of the drama, and the appearance of

the ghost, surprised our young collegian. But when the solemn words were pronounced,

"The time is near,

When I to sulphurous and tormenting flames

Must render up myself!"

it roused him to reflection.

"Oh!" thought he,

66 were

I to die in this place, would not this be my portion? How soon will all this vanity end, and I must appear before God!" He then resolved not to venture to this scene of thoughtless gaiety and profaneness again.

When the second act was over, "Come," said Mr. Peachman, "let me show you the purlieus of this fascinating place." He took him into the saloon; there were tables laid out with every delicacy of pastry, fruit, and wine, to invite the appetite and please the taste, while all around appeared forms of exquisite beauty, reclining or walking. "There sits one," said Peachman, "whom I know. Observe her; she will take no notice of you. I will tell you her history." Rowland observed a pensiveness in her countenance; anxiety and suspense seemed depicted on her brow. "She is waiting," said Peachman, "for a gentleman (so called) who has beguiled her into his snares. She is anxiously expecting to meet him here. Clara (for that is the name by which I shall call her,) was brought up by an aunt in the country, where she ere long attracted the admiration of a young gentleman, Mr. Elnut, He was the pupil of a clergyman residing in that village, and had lodgings at her aunt's, who lived upon a comfortable independence The opportunities which this circumstance gave him of acquaintance with her were too convenient not to be improved. They were often discovered walking together in some retired paths near the village. Ere long, Elnut quitted the village to enter

upon an estate which fell to him. Soon after, at the persuasion of Clara, the aunt was prevailed upon to allow her

to visit a relation in town.

Not a year had elapsed ere
The fact was, that Elnut had

Clara was not to be found. called upon her one afternoon with a coach, in the absence of her town aunt, and she was seen entering the coach with him. He persuaded her to accompany him to the play, and pretending it was not yet ten o'clock, he detained her to the after-piece. When they left, he bribed the coachman to stop at a tavern under the pretence that the traces were broken, while he prevailed upon Clara to walk in, and immediately ordered a fowl and a bottle of champagne. She protested she would not stay; but he told her it was impossible to go till the traces were repaired, or another coach arrived. The supper was brought; he poured out the champagne, and persuaded her to drink. Exhausted and fatigued, she took two or three glasses. He took out his watch, and starting up, declared it was two o'clock, and protested he thought it only twelve. He told her it was too late to go home, and he would take her to a lady, a friend of his. No! she would not hear of it; she would walk home by herself. He then offered to go and see whether the family were up, and waiting for her. He went, and soon returned, saying, they were all retired to rest, and that it would give them an ill opinion of her to return at that unseasonable hour, besides exciting notice in the neighbourhood. By these arguments he prevailed upon her to accompany him to a lodging of his own, where she was kindly received, and retired to a sleepless bed. In the morning he pretended he had waited upon her friends, but they were so exasperated at her conduct, that they determined never to see her again. them herself, but received no answer. She wrote several times, but had no reply. The fact was, the villain never

She then wrote to

went near her friends, nor sent any of her letters, and concealed from her all the papers and placards advertising her elopement, and entreating her return. At length, overcome by the fulness of distress, and the agony of suspense, she was thrown upon a sick bed. He attended upon her incessantly, and endeavoured, by the softest arts, to convince her he was her only friend. He pleaded that he was only deterred at present from publicly acknowledging her as his wife, lest his father should cut off his fortune, but protested that he would marry her as soon as his circumstances allowed him. He talked of nothing but love, till he had bribed her credulity. Overcome with what she deemed his unconquerable attachment, she yielded at last to his allurements, and was ruined. From that day the ardour of Einut's love has begun to cool, and as he frequently absents himself from her for days together, she is obliged to have recourse to this stratagem of waiting in the saloon in the hope of meeting him. She waits here also to convince her suspicious mind whether she has any rival, or to surprise him and take him home. I predict that ere long he will desert her as basely as he gained her, and that the once beautiful and innocent Clara will be added to the pitiable number of those who have become the victims of villany, and who end their days in a wretched dependence upon the caprice of the licentious."

2

"Such, then," said Rowland to himself, "are the evils to be incurred at the playhouse! It is a place of danger and seduction. The air itself breathes levity and impurity, and all the acts, the scenery, the company, and the allurements are too well suited to estrange the heart from religion, and to prepare it for guilty indulgences."

He was soon convinced of this by actual experiment, for, on going out of the room, two smiling young creatures