surprise! I was ready to drop down For it was NANCY L*****, who came into the Magdalen sometime after me: but her sad temper would not permit her to stay there: so that the gentlemen, after having long waited her better behaviour in vain, (for nothing can be imagined more tender and careful than they are, more slow to punish, more desirous to continue us) were forced to dismiss her! and she, having no friend to receive her, was obliged to return to her old way of life; and now diseased and cast off, was at the point of starving, when thus accidentally she applied to me in the street. The moment she knew me, she burst into the most lamentable cries and tears 1 ever heard or saw ! happy girl, (said she) would to God I had been like you. Now I am ruined and lost forever. I have no clothes to cover me: no food to supply my hunger, and I am almost perishing with it. Disease is preying upon me in a terrible manner. I have no where to hide my head: I am cast out by every body; and in a few days must perish; and what will become of my soul, I dare not even think.” "Oh! You may imagine, Sir, what a situation mine was, while I heard her speaking thus; I gave her what present relief I could: and provided for her last night. I have made her dismal case known to my humane and charitable mistress; and she will assist this poor creature. And now Sir, if I should be so happy, after all, as to be made an instrument of saving my fellow-sufferer, I shall bless God indeed; and think that such a mercy granted Tue, is a proof he has graciously and fully pardoned me. I wish all the poor unfortunate girls in the city, and every where, could have seen poor NANCY L*****; for none I am sure would then be bad upon principle, or stay a minute from the blessed Magdalen, to perish in the streets like a beast, neglected by all: in cold, in nakedness, in hunger, in distemper----unhoused, unfriended, unpitied, unrelieved! What distress can be equal hope, Sir, you will correct all my mistakes: and, as it is proper to conceal real names, I shal! beg leave to subscribe myself, now, and whenever again you will suffer me to trouble you, A GRATEFUL Magdalen. THE SUBJECT CONTINued. MAN, the lawless libertine, may rove SHE SETS, LIKE STARS THAT FALL, TO RISE NO MORE! I HAVE a plain and artless tale to deliver; and I deliver it only to shew, that pity and relief may not be improperly extended to unhappy objects like myself. Parents too may perhaps learn some instruction from my story. I am the daughter of a tradesman in this city: my father, though engaged in a reputable and advantageous business, had yet no right to the privileges of a gentleman; but my mother desirous to assume those privileges, from her marriage determined to live and act as a gentlewoman. With this view she always followed the fashion : her dress was ever in the mode; and her dinning room was furnished in taste; the chimney piece had no small share share of Bow China ware; the curtains were made after the most elegant manner; and the whole floor was covered with Wilton carpet. You may be satisfied from this disposition of my mother's, that she was careful, whatever else she might for get, to instruct her children in politeness. Indeed, Sir,. ever from the time that I can remember ought, I remember nothing so diligently inculcated upon me as lessons of my own importance, gentility, and beauty, and the necessity of setting off my person to the best advantage. Imagine not, that I mean to dishonour my mother by repeating these things, which may appear trifling, but they were, in reality, the inlets to my ruin: I reverence the memory of my parent; but by mentioning her mis takes, perhaps I may happily warn others. At the age of fifteen I lost my mother, who left my father a widower, with myself, a sister, and two brothers; and as I was the eldest, and my father was very fond of me, the chief conduct of domestic affairs fell upon me. But, Oh! Sir, how ill capacitated was I for this, who had been initiated into all the fashionable diversions and a musements, for which I had contracted an insuperable fondness; as they led me to display those personal graces, which alone I was taught to cultivate; and which, alas! 1 valued but too highly. My mother's death tended to advance me more early into a state of womanish beha viour and my father gratified too blindly my wild inclin. ations. As I had heard only general and random lessons of virtue, and very few or occasional instructions in religion, it is not to be supposed, that mere female honour could give me great strength to withstand temptations. But, indeed, I thought little of temptations: as I scarcely knew what was vice, so it gained little of my reflection: : my my chief wish was to be admired; and my grand aim and pursuit, to get a very fine and wealthy husband. Chariots, country houses, routes, dress, and gaiety occu pied my waking and sleeping thoughts. Thus a year and more ran on: during which time I: wanted not admirers; for I must be allowed to say, my person was pleasing and attractive. Amongst these the son of an opulent merchant in our neighbourhood attend. ed me most assiduously; and his endearing behaviour soonwon my unsuspecting heart. My father encouraged his visits; which yet he himself desired might be as secret as possible: For his father, he informed us, would be greatly offended, if acquainted with his attachments to -me, the only thing, he daily protested, which prevented his marrying me. I heard his oaths, I listened and believed. But how distant was I from suspecting any dishonourable intentions, since, in all the fervour of passion, he would curse his fate, and the vile folly of mankind in suffering priests to obstruct their bliss by a foolish ceremony, devised solely for their profit; since, in the sight of God, (if there was a God who took notice of such things) an union of hearts, and mutual oaths and vows, must doubtless constitute a marriage. Much of this I often heard; and love blinded my eyes to its intent. * In the mean time, a sudden shock overwhelmed our family in the deepest distress: my father became a bankrupt; and the miseries impending over his children só affected him, that he turned perfectly melancholy. This accident was Mr B**'s triumph: his friendship and tenderness for me on this occasion was such, that I fear it would have prevailed over a heart better fortified. Wonder not, Sir, that it prevailed over me, whose heart was melting with the softest love to him! Cruel deceiver! be he persuaded me to leave that distressful scene, and to take possession of a lodging, which he had provided, he told me, till better times would allow him publicly to acknowledge me as his wife. My father's brother took the management of his affairs, and the kind protection of my brothers and sister; while I, only I, was lost to them; drowned in a state of insensibility, though not, without the tenderest regard to my dear relations; whom? I endeavoured to persuade that I was married to Mr. B**; but they were too wise; they could not be deceived; and foretelling me my fate, with severity enough, utterly cast me off. B** Possessed of Mr. B**'s affection, I felt, I conceived no loss or hurt from any others' neglect. And my heart can bear me witness, that I never knew a thought, or indulged a wish from him. Seven months he continued all I could hope and I began to believe that every thing (though little enough) which I had heard of formal vi tue, was a name; and that outward ceremonies and the like, tended only to the infelicity of the married state. But soon, too soon, was I awakened from this golden dream. Mr. B✶✶ grew thoughtful in my company, began to make his visits less frequent and more, short; urging great business in the compting house, the preparation of ships, and I know not what; it gave me pain, but I suspected nothing. One day, however, when I was at the window waiting for him as usual with fond impatience, a messenger came with a letter: but what words can express my anguish upon reading it! It was to inform me that his father had found out his connection with me, and had provided a match for him with a lady of very great fortune; and since it was impossible for him to refuse, as he must thereby forfeit all |