want, by the power of the law."
By false, yet seducing opinions such as these, her reason estranged from every moral and religious tie, her necessities urgent, the reluctantly aceepted the proposal, to mix with a band of practised sharpers and robbers; and become an accomplice in negotiating bills forged on a country banker.

But though ingenious in arguments to excuse the deed before its commission; in the act, she had the dread of some uncontrovertible statement on the other side of the question. Intimidated by this conviction, she was the veriest bungler in her vile profession—and on the alarm of being detected, while every one of her confederates escaped and absconded, she alone was seized—was arrested for issuing notes they had fabricated, and committed to the provincial jail, about fifty miles from London, where the crime was perpetrated, to take her trial for—life or death.


THE day at length is come, on which Hannah shall have a sight of her beloved William!—She, who has watched for hours near his door, to procure a glimpse of him going out, or returning home; who has walked miles to see his chariot pass; she now will behold him, and he will see her, by the command of the laws of their country—Those laws that will deal with rigour towards her, in this one instance are still indulgent.
The time of the assizes, at the county-town in which she is imprisoned, is arrived—the prisoners are demanded at the shire-hall—the jail doors are opened—they go in sad procession.—The trumpet sounds—it speaks the arrival of the judge—and that judge is William.
The day previous to her trial, Hannah had read, in the printed calendar of the prisoners, his name as the learned justice before whom she was to appear. For a

moment she forgot her perilous state in the excess of joy, which the still unconquerable love she bore to him, permitted her to taste even on the brink of the grave!—After-reflection made her check those worldly transports, as unfit for the present solemn occasion. But alas! to her, earth and William were so closely united, that, till she forsook the one, she could never cease to think, without the contending passions of hope, of fear, of joy, of love, of shame, and of despair, on the other.
Now fear took place of her first immoderate joy—she feared, that although much changed in person since he had seen her, and her real name now added to many an alias—yet she feared that some well-known glance of the eye, turn of the action,