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the first who sought that hospitable dwelling; and alas, it makes my very blood run chill, to reflect upon my situation, when admitted into that house! Good God, was there ever such an object of pity and distress! Abandoned by every friend I had; abhoring my dire business, but obliged to continue it for bread, almost naked; broken hearted; without a roof to receive me; without an eye to pity me; without any kind christian to look on and rescue me. People, Sir, think, that no hard usage is bad enough for us in that state: but indeed, if they knew all, they would not think so. For as bad a creature as I might seem, I would have given the world to have been employed in any honest means of livelihood: though there was a time when I should have thought servile employ much beneath me. But, alas, times were sorely changed, and my affliction was greater than could be fancied. If you indulge me by printing this, perhaps, when I can get a little time I may send you some short account of my misfortunes, to shew that we are not all such objects of every body's worst contempt and insults. But I beg pardon for running from my subject; women's pens, Sir, are not used to order.
In my calamitous distress I applied to the Magdalen House; and I was received with all that humanity which distinguishes the worthy managers of it. I fancied and foreboded every good to myself, when, on the
