good government; and the end for which vigilance, society, and regulation are properly employed. Those whom passion or interest have already depraved, have a claim on compassion from beings equally fallible and frail with themselves; and to stop the increase of this deplorable multitude, is a consideration certainly the most pressing and both these objects will be at least partially accomplished by the proposed line of conduct; and if we cannot eradicate, cannot we check? - If we cannot entirely restrain, can we not curb? Because we cannot extirpate, shall we refuse to retrench? Such reasoning would not mark the policy of an idiot. How can we hope more rationally for success than by possessing the strongest holds, and weakening the most secure retreats! - how can we better cramp the influence of vice than by lessening the number of its votaries! By the accession of one to the list of prostitution, who can calculate how much the stream is expanded and strengthened? - and, on the contrary, by the secession of one, who can calculate the negative and positive advantage of society? If we descend to our own individul interests:-Parents who tremble for the exposure of your blooming offspring, guardians who are anxious for your important charge, relatives who enquire into futurity for your adopted treasure, remember, that no bulwark is so safe, that no discipline is so effectual, that no resolution is so stable, that no circumstances are so promising, as the removal or the debility of the foe of their virtue and your peace. But the voice of Piety is still more reproachful for the past, and peremptory for the future. Disgrace to Christians! that, instead of imitating the great Author of their faith, they disregard his precepts, condemn his example. Had the blessed Jesus indulged thoughts similar to yours, and had your ways been his ways, Mary had been abandoned to the scorn, as she now is exhibited to the admiration of mankind! Such is your presumption, that like the ancient Pharisees, you pretend to more holiness than the Son of God himself, while each fleeting moment convicts you of the grossest impurities; and how great are your inconsistencies! You talk of zeal, and you complain of difficulties; you talk of compassion, and ye say only Be - ye warmed, be ye clothed, be ye happy; you talk of holiness, and you view the rankest sins without sickening, without emotion; you talk of fidelity, and you suffer the maturity and the execution of a Satanic plan, than which none has been more successful for the population of the enemy's kingdom; -you talk of gratitude, and you evidence only complacency. Gratitude is an active principle; and however limited its ability, it still enquires, "What shall I render unto the Lord for all his benefits?" Remember, in your accustomed visits to the house of God, you often pass through bands of these miserable females, covered with rags, shivering with cold, pining with hunger, nauscous with filth, noisome with disease, blaspheming ། FOR UNFORTUNATE FEMALES. · 407 with familiarity, and you neither pity their calamity nor reflect upon their destiny; and if in the temple, like the Pharisee, you profess to thank God that you are not such, your devotion, like his, is accompanied with no fervent petition for their salvation and their peace. At home, you look around upon your rising family, glowing with health, blushing with chastity, budding with frankness, ingenuousness, and honesty, and as you press them to your heart, you profess to be thankful; but were you truly grateful, you would fly to give information to enquiring affection, to administer consolation to distracted fondness, and to restore to the embraces of miserable parents their lost, but their still dear offspring! You talk of dependence and humility; and you act as though you and yours were elevated and invulnerable, forgetful that you also may become a "dog." Poor creatures, for whom I plead, you would not long groan in your present afflictions, if none were to refuse relief but those that owe their exemption from the same distress only to their own wisdom and their own virtue. The persuasion, Christians, which cases the heart, and closes the hand from benevolence and compassion, however specious, cometh not of him that calleth to you, Take care, lest while you pay tythes of annis, mint, and cummin, you neglect the mightier matters of the law." Two circumstances, which have very recently met my observation, have confirmed the necessity of vigorous measures; and have indeed convinced me, that the delay of every hour may be attended with the most important evils. I was, a few weeks ago, upon a visit in an obscure village, not far from a large city in the west of England, when some impressive reports, which agitated this little state, excited my enquiry, and demanded my serious attention. I soon found that I must be active; and hastened accordingly to the palace of Honour and Wretchedness; and there saw, stretched upon a lock of straw, a female, whose early form and beauty might have occasioned in an observer, feelings not painful to himself, nor degrading to her. Poor girl! --as a servant, she was idle and wanton; and at length she entered the circle of prostitution at the neighbouring city. Her career, however, was not long ;Poverty stripped her back, and Disease attacked her vitals! Dying and desperate, she was returning to her native village, when her increasing disorder arrested her steps, and she dropped almost lifeless under the cover of a hedge. Here many hours elapsed without bringing her any observer! When the sun sunk in peace, it formed a wretched contrast with her spirit, sinking in tumult and distraction. When the shadows of evening marched on, they chilled the principle of Life, and seemed to announce the night of Death. In this awful situation, a carrier found her, lifted her half-animated carcase, and conveyed it where every thing but the curses of the inhabitants would have taught you to believe they were human habitations. At this late hour she was carried from door to door, only to be loaded with execrations and oppressed by threats. The livine, the magistrate, and the officers whom the parish had slected as the friends of the poor and the refuge of the distressed, dismissed and derided her. Nature was no longer her friend! Her parents and her near relatives were equally indifferent and inhuman; and that night she must have perished, had not an old woman given her that corner in a hovel which she occupied when I saw her. A hovel that had no floor but the earth,-furnished with no bed of down, nor pillow of ease, and provide! with no bill of anticipation. I saw her; she bloomed,but it was the hectic flush; her eyes sparkled, not with wantonness and vivacity, - but agony and fire; she coughed, but the exertion overcaine her, the pain distracted her; and the sound to me was the language of the tomb. "But her soul !" say you. Ah! I did not forget that this miserable hut, this putrifying tabernacle, contained a living, an immortal spirit, the subject of eternal destiny, and perhaps the purchase of the Redeemer's blood! Before I entered I heard her bitter cries and her hollow groans; and I soon perceived that she was the subject of violent convictions: her bosom was agitated with remorse; recollection presented, and faithfully recorded every gradation of sin, not only the actions, but the progressions of her thoughts; and guilt, she said, overwhelmed her. Conscience placed in long perspective the horrors of the pit, the torments of Tophet, the eternal fire that awaits such sin; and she said it convulsed her. The landscape of eternity was constantly before her eyes, covered with the thickest shades; and if, for a moment, a beam of hope lighted it up, it fled, to make the darkness of despair more horrible. She exhibited a great deal of ingenuousness, simplicity, and desirable hesitation. Her hostess had given her a tract, the Penitent Prostitute. I talked with her a great deal, faithfully and affectionately; and left her more composed, and very grateful. I endeavoured to teach her to discriminate between the fear of punishment and a dislike to its cause; and left her, in fact, in this employment during the night, when her only company was the candle and the hour-glass. I repeated my visits; and found that her mind gradually assumed a firmer tone, that hope began to gild the horizon of her pros pects, and that acquiescence in the direction of God and detestation of her conduct and herself, were prominent and habitual tempers. The place in which she was, forbade any medical or surgical process; and at length, with considerable difficulty, I inclined the parish-officers to remove her to a town where she might have a room, and that attention which might be instrumental to her recovery. Not to be tedious, I saw her once in that situation; and still hoped, that the impressions which she possessed were salutary and supernatural:- but ah! with returning FOR UNFORTUNATE FEMALES. health, who can say, what symptoms may revive?-where is your Society?where is your Asylum? In another instance lately, I was noticed by a young female, so as to make me return some observations. I discovered her to be a native of a manufacturing town, and connected relatively with several of my acquaintance in that place. She was taken to a fashionable city, under pretence of an honourable intention; which she still flatters herself her betrayer meant to execute. Deserted by him, from the knowledge of his family, she sought London; where she now is, and where she has a brother, a tradesman of respectability. She is public; but expects shortly to be more privately disposed of, by a person with whom she again delides herself with the hope of matrimonial connection. She has plenty of every thing but peace; and of that confesses her self entirely destitute. To use her own words: "What," said she," is money, clothes, pleasure, and flattery to me, while I am miserable? I had rather have a crust and rags, truth, innocence, and contentment! I know that I am living in a very sinand that is the worst of all. Often have I seriously ful way; thought of terminating myself, my wretched existence, but I fear futurity. I sometimes hope it will be better: but ah! what can I do? where can I go? I cannot meet the reproaches and the looks of my family and friends. I have a genteel employment, to which I would return; but ah! I have no character! I have a sister, respected and happy; but I am an outcast, and forlorn : 1 must live miserable, and then be d--d!" - My prayer I could weep; but scarcely could I articulate. shall be for you in your calamity;-to her request I gave the assurance of confidence. What could I do but approach the feet of Him, whose gracious, though awful consolation I remem bered: "That many publicans and harlots should sit down in his kingdom, while the insulated, the complacent, the insensible Pharisee should be shut out for ever!" What could I do but enquire immediately of the Editor of the Evangelical Magazine, of the Christian world, Where is your projected Society? where is your intended Asylum? where are your bowels of compassion? - Yours, &c. We have the pleasure of informing the writer of this paper, JOANNA, and other Friends of Humanity, who are anxious to provide an Asylum for Unfortunate Females, that the Plan of a Society for that purpose is under the consideration of some pious In the mean time, any and respectable persons; which, when matured, will be submitted to the Public at a General Meeting. suggestions on the subject will be thankfully received by J. Reyner, Esq. Old Swan Stairs; T. Pellat, Esq. Ironmongers Hall, Fenchurch Street; or by the Editor, at the Publishers. SG To the truly serious Christians of all Denominations. Sheweth, THE HUMBLE PETITION OF SABBATH-DAY, THAT your Petitioner is of very ancient and honourable extraction, being created directly after the world and man were formed; and that your Petitioner, immediately after his formation, was blessed and sanctified by his Creator That your Petitioner was highly honoured many thousand years after his creation, insomuch that a man who presumed to degrade your Petitioner by gathering a few sticks, was put to death without mercy t. That a blessing was promised to all who gave due honour to your Petitioner . That your Petitioner continued to be honoured and esteemed till within a few hundred years ago. That since that period your Petitioner has been gradually deprived of the honour due unto him, notwithstanding the promises and threatenings held out to those who should honour or dishonour your Petitioner. That your Petitioner is now held in so little estimation, that he is obliged by the rich to serve them for routs, concerts, and other fashionabic amusements:-by some he is used for working a windmill,-by some for printing newspapers and selling them,by some for keeping open shop, and selling shoes and other things, by some for corn-porters to work on,-by some for driving cattle to market,-by some for digging up gardens,-by some for driving stage coaches,-by some for watermen to ply on, by butchers for selling meat,-by a vast number for admi nistering to their pleasures, and many other degrading employ ments, which your Petitioner was by no means created for. That for these things great wrath and judgments may be ex pected; and that by dishonouring your Petitioner many persons have come to an untimely end. That your Petitioner is grieved to the heart to see such vast numbers of people obnoxious to the divine wrath and displeasure of an omnipotent God, by the dishonour they cast on your Peti tioner. That, a short time ago, a Society was formed to endeavour to restore your Petitioner the honour he has been deprived of; but that no visible effect has appeared from their exertions. Therefore, your Petitioner humbly prays you will take his case into your most serious consideration, and that you will use your * Gen. ii. 3. + Num. XV. 26. Isa. viii. 13. |