it possible that she should describe them all so very exactly as she did, at her return to her mother's, in the presence of such numbers of people? Nay, she described likewise, the prospect that appeared from the hay-loft, with such exactness, as required a long time to furnish her with the particulars of. I know but two ways of her being enabled to give this description; either she must have been there herself, or must have had her information from some other. As to the former, Wells herself denies it; and as to the latter, I leave to the conjecture of my ingenious reader, whether it was Mother Wells herself, the Gipsy woman, Virtue Hall, or who else that instructed Elizabeth Canning in all these particulars.

In the mean time, I shall beg leave to conclude, either that we must account for the girl's knowledge one of the ways which I have mentioned; or, secondly, we must believe an impossibility; or, thirdly, we must swallow the truth of this relation, though it be as hard a morsel as any which the poor girl fed on during her whole confinement.

And now I come to a piece of evidence which hath been the principal foundation of that credit which I have given to this extraordinary story. It appeared to me at first to be convincing and unsurmountable, in the same light it appeared to a gentleman whose understanding and sagacity are of the very first rate, and who is one of the best lawyers of his time; he owned that this evidence seemed to him to be unanswerable, so I acknowledge it yet seems to me, and till I shall receive an answer, I must continue to believe the fact which rests upon it.

In order to lay this evidence before the reader in a fair and just light, it will be necessary to give a brief relation of the order of proceedings in this case,

down to the time when Virtue Hall appeared first before me.

Upon the return of Elizabeth Canning to her mother's house in the manner above set forth, and upon the account which she gave of her unprecedented sufferings, the visible marks of which then appeared on her body, all her neighbours began to fire with resentment against the several actors concerned in so cruel a scene; and presently some of the most substantial of these neighbours proposed to raise a contribution amongst themselves, in order, if possible, to bring the villains who had injured this poor girl to exemplary justice: as soon, therefore, as she was able to bear the journey, they put her into a chaise, and taking with them proper peace officers, conveyed the girl along the Hertford Road, to see if she was able to trace out the house where she had been confined; for she at that time knew not the name of the place, nor could she sufficiently describe the situation of Wells's house, though she had before so exactly described the inside of it. Possibly, indeed, she might never have been able to have discovered the house at all, had it not been for a very extraordinary incident, and this was, that through the chinks or crevices of the boards of the hay-loft, she saw at a distance the Hertford stage coach pass by, the driver of which she knew, though he past not near enough for her to call to him with any hopes of success, and by this extraordinary circumstance she came to know that the house stood on the Hertford Road.

When they arrived at this house the poor girl was taken out of the chaise, and placed on a table in the kitchen, where all the family passed in review before her; she then fixed on the Gipsy woman, whom she had very particularly described before, and who is, per

haps, the most remarkable person in the whole world; she charged likewise Virtue Hall, whose countenance likewise is very easy to be remembered by those who have once seen her.

The whole family, however, though no more were positively charged by Elizabeth Canning, being put all into a cart were conducted before Mr. Tyshemaker, who is a justice of the peace for the County of Middlesex, who, having first examined Elizabeth Canning alone, but without taking from her any information in writing, did afterwards examine all the parties, and in the end committed the Gipsy woman and Wells-the former for taking away the stays from Elizabeth Canning, and the latter for keeping a disorderly house.

And here the reader will be pleased to observe these facts:

First, That Elizabeth Canning did not make any information in writing before this justice.

Secondly, That the history of the fact that she related to the justice was not in the presence of Virtue Hall.

Thirdly, That Elizabeth Canning, so cautious is she in taking her oath, declared that she could not swear to the Gipsy's son, as the men's hats were flapped over their faces in the house, and as- when she was first assaulted it was so very dark, she could not distinguish their countenances, nor did she charge Wells with any crime at all, except that which resulted from the tenor of her whole evidence of keeping a disorderly house.

Lastly, That Virtue Hall did, at that time, absolutely deny that she knew anything of the matter, and declared that Elizabeth Canning had never been in Wells's house, to her knowledge, till that day, nor had she ever seen her face before; the consequence of which

declaration was, that the Gipsy's son, whom this Virtue Hall hath since accused of the robbery, was discharged by Mr. Tyshemaker.

Elizabeth Canning, with her friends, now returned home to her mother's house, where she continued to languish in a very deplorable condition; and now Mr. Salt, the attorney, who hath been employed in this cause, advised the parties to apply to counsel, and upon this occasion, as he hath done upon many others, he fixed upon me as the counsel to be advised with.

Accordingly, upon the 6th of February, as I was sitting in my room, Counsellor Maden being then with me, my clerk delivered me a case, which was thus, as I remember, endorsed at the top, The Case of Elizabeth Canning for Mr. Fielding's opinion, and at the bottom, Salt, Solr. Upon the receipt of this case, with my fee, I bid my clerk give my service to Mr. Salt and tell him that I would take the case with me into the country, whither I intended to go the next day, and desired he would call for it on the Friday morning afterwards; after which, without looking into it, I delivered it to my wife, who was then drinking tea with us, and who laid it by.

The reader will pardon my being so particular in these circumstances, as they seem, however trifling they may be in themselves, to show the true nature of this whole transaction, which hath been so basely misrepresented, and as they will all be attested by a gentleman of fashion, and of as much honour as any in the nation. My clerk presently returned up stairs, and brought Mr. Salt with him, who, when he came into the room, told me that he believed the question would be of very little difficulty, and begged me earnestly to read it over then, and give him my opinion, as it was a matter of some haste, being of a criminal

nature, and he feared the parties would make their escape. Upon this, I desired him to sit down, and when the tea was ended, I ordered my wife to fetch me back the case, which I then read over, and found it to contain a very full and clear state of the whole affair relating to the usage of this girl, with a quere what methods might be proper to take to bring the offenders to justice; which quere I answered in the best manner I was able. Mr. Salt then desired that Elizabeth Canning might swear to her information before me, and added, that it was the very particular desire of several gentlemen of that end of the town, that Virtue Hall might be examined by me relating to her knowledge of this affair.

This business I at first declined, partly, as it was a transaction which had happened at a distant part of the county, as it had been examined already by a gentleman, with whom I have the pleasure of some acquaintance, and of whose worth and integrity I have with all, I believe, who know him, a very high opinion; but principally, indeed, for that I had been almost fatigued to death, with several tedious examinations at that time, and had intended to refresh myself with a day or two's interval in the country, where I had not been, unless on a Sunday, for a long time.

I yielded, however, at last, to the importunities of Mr. Salt; and my only motives for so doing were, besides those importunities, some curiosity, occasioned by the extraordinary nature of the case, and a great compassion for the dreadful condition of the girl, as it was represented to me by Mr. Salt.

The next day Elizabeth Canning was brought in a chair to my house, and being lead up stairs between two, the following information, which I had never