ating coast between Eastenness and Dunwich, and the
more remote promontory of Orford-Ness. Dunwich, too, that Tyre of the
East Angles, sat not then so wholly desolate on her crumbling cliff as
now overlooking, in dust and ashes, the devouring waves of the German
ocean in which her former glory lies buried two centuries ago. Dunwich,
however changed and fallen from what she was in olden time, still
retained the rank of a city; and, instead of the miserable horde of
smugglers' and fishermen's huts we now behold, with the roofless remains
of one lonely church, there were busy and populous streets, with shops,
and some appearances of maritime enterprise and mercantile prosperity.
The annual fair, which still takes place there on St. James's-day, was
at that time considered as a most attractive holiday by the denizens of
all the scattered towns and villages along that picturesque coast. Many
a well-manned yawl and light sailing-vessel would, in those days, put
off from Southwold, Lowestofft, or Aldborough, freighted with a
pleasure-loving crew, eager to enjoy a summer voyage and a merry day at
old Dunwich.

A great revolution has taken place in public opinion since then, with
respect to fairs, which, so far from being exclusively the saturnalia of
the vulgar and dissolute, were then used as marts for the sale of
various articles of domestic produce; and regarded by all classes of
society as seasons of social glee, where all met together, from the
highest to the lowest, in gala array, with smiles on their faces, and
good-will in their hearts, to participate in cheerful sports and
harmless mirth, in which good order and decency were observed out of
respect for the presence of ladies and gentlemen.

Christopher Younges, Elizabeth's father, was, however, a man of stern
notions; and looking on the dark side of the picture, the abuse of such
assemblages, he absolutely condemned them as affording fatal
opportunities for the idle, the extravagant, and the dissipated to
indulge in sinful excesses, and to seduce the weak and unstable to
follow bad example. He had never, on any occasion, permitted his pretty
daughter Elizabeth, then in the opening bloom of eighteen, to display
her youthful charms and gay attire even at the annual fair held in their
own town, and she knew, as she told her gay companion, Margaret, "that
it would be in vain to ask his permission to join the festive party on
the morrow."

"For my part," rejoined Margare