The Sun.
London, England, 1858-02-04 00:00:00

PROSTITUTION IN THE METROPOLIS.

The following letter has been addressed to the
editor of the Ttmes

Sir,—Certain persons have, as you know, com-
menced a crusade against London prostitutes, and,
if one of that abandoned sisterhood may presume
to address you, grant me your attention.
The precept and example set me by parents, now,
thank God, in their graves ; the education likewise
" thrown away" upon me, and my subsequent ex-
perience as a governess in a highly respectable
family, were not necessary Ito the conviction that
the class among which I may be numbered con-
aiats of outcasts whose undisguised pursuit is an
()fence to the laws of God and man.

I know that we are cut off from the moral, social,
and religious worlds. lam conscious that there is
nothing in common between us and other women
but sheer mortality. lam aware that we are beings
whom men should shun and women must condemn.
We need not be told of our ruin and degradation,
because we never " fall" without being alive to the
fact. A woman seduced may forgive her wrongs
and outlive her sense and shame. Her conscience
may harden and her very memory may sleep, but
she never need be reminded of her real condition.
It is impossible for her to forget what she is ; society
will not permit her to do so. lam speaking now of
lost mortals like myself, and not of those whose sin-
ful life Fortune seems to gild. Do not suppose, then,
that I would attempt to defend what transpires
nightly in the Haymarket, in Coventry-street, or
wherever women of aty caste congregate. I do no:
ask you to countenance anything of the kind. No,
Sir, give "Vice its own image," and do your duty.
But, you yourself refrain from going a step too
far, pray give a warning word to others. It is one
thing to put down a nuisance ; it is another to per-
secute individuals. I will anticipate much that
may fairly be said, and admit that if I live avowedly
in defiance of those regulations which the coin
munity has established as indispensable to its well
being —(" I waive the quantum o' the sin,"
the b idy's pollution, and the soul's perdition ; that
is my private business, and God help me I mine
alone, I hope)—if I pat ade my iniquitous trade so
as to commit a public outrage, I must expect to be
checked in such openly vicious courses, for I believe
the liberty of the subject should end where injury
to others begins. But pray tell those good gentle-
men who are bent upon " putting us down," that
their's is not only a delicate, but a difficult under-
taking, and they should be careful lest they have
more to answer for than they dream of in their philo-
sophy. One Horace,—au authority whom you
gentlemen quote,—has said, I believe,—

"Let the wise man be considered a fool, and the just
man as unjust, if his rigorous adherence even to virtue
herself carries him beyond the proper bounds."

I hope these worthy gentlemen are not attempting
to cure an evil by driving it inwards. There is a
scandalous eyesore and annoyance existing; remove
it ! But if those excellent men imagine that by
clearing the thoroughfares of professed wretches
like me they will advance one step in the cause
of virtue they are gravely mistaken. Wives and
daughters and sisters should be spared disgusting
scenes of all kinds, and fathers and sons and bro-
thers should be tempted as little as possible. I
can yet admit that ! But London is, for it size,
the most moral town in Europe—perhaps the civi-
lised world—and I once had a friend who could
prove it. Leaving continental citits, with all their
recognised and even legalised enormities, out of the
question—go, for example, to the quiet, orderly,
religious, and apparently sleeping village of Dol-
gelly, in North Wales, " where a seraph night
dwell," and where you find all serene, and
the number of bastard children on the parish books
will astound you. The vice of London, sir, is seen
to float on its surface ; let it pass as the weed on its
way to the ocean. Hit accumulate so as to become
offensive, disperse it. If it otherwise annoy and
cannot conveniently be avoided, deal with it ac-
cordingly. But have we not our uses 1 1 believe
and hope that I am a warning to every woman I
meet. I fancy, too, that even men sometimes pause
in their worst designs when they look upon me, or
feel a pang should those designs have been accom-
plished. Do you think that when I have laughed
boldly (as we never do when sober) in the face of a
virtuous girl, and as much as to say, "see what
ono of our sex can come to I" my maniac conduct
has not whispered " Thank God, and take heed 1"
I have seen the half-starved milliner and humble
orange-girl hurry past me with a shudder, and
the poor servant, snatching a moment to gaze
about her, go to her work rejoicing that "she
has not come to that !" And then your sex. Hea-
ven grant me patience that I may content myself
with observing that no good man ever noticed me in
the street, save with pity, indifference, or con-
tempt ; and there is no seclusion which the vicious
will not penetrate. As for temptation, iu which
shape is it the more dangerous, that of a notorious
street-walker, or a modest maiden going on an
errand ? However numerous be the Maria Mil-
woods, depend upon it George Barn wells are scarce.
Do you think I could not make myself understood
without shocking the looker-on, or openly display-
ing my purpose I Can I not even add to my
"snares" and "attractions" by disguising myself
as a downs e, a young Quakeress, a dressmaker, or
even lady—aye, and acting the part too 1 My
reason for not resorting to those stratugews is there
is no necessity for so doing. Yet you, of course,
but little know how many of us appear in those
characters, and without exciting the slightest sus-
picion among the public in general. 1 know a de-
signing and disreputable girl who has been passing
herself off for a long time upon a city banker as a
parson's wife ; and another who pretends to have
her " Sunday out," that she may walk abroad wit h
a gentleman of Somerset-house ; and serve them
right ! Then there are unfortunates who live in
style ; some appear in carriages, some ou foot.
Your sex may know them, but mine mistake them
for decent women (I am still alluding to the profes-
sional courtezan). These are the pitfalls for the
males of good families. But in respect to the more
common of my class—not by any means the worst
—now under censure, pray say a word iu time, and
before she be committed to the tender mercies of
the police. He is not the man to " take her up
tenderly." Consider, sir, she is "c ne of Eve's
family," as your mother was, and as your wife and
daughter are !—aye, and as even your Queen is.
She has no other claim to your forbearance.

"Alas for the rarity
" Of Christian Charity
"Under the sun !
" Oh, it is pitiful,
" Wear a whole city full,
" Horne has she none."

Appoint commissioners who are fitted for the
office, intelligent, respectable, and responsible
gentlemen, and make it worth their while to devote
themselves entirely to the reduction of the scandal
complained of. Empower these officials to have us
taken up and punished for riot or impropriety of
any kind. But let not the "pelting petty officer,"
the ignorant officer of a few shillings a-week, and
it may be an unfeeling and unthinking brute, inter-
fere with us as he will. Recollect it was man who
made us what we are. It is man who pays for the
finery, the rouge, and the gin. It is for man that
we are yet as, as well as 'hat, we are. It is man
who, when we apply ourselves to industry and
honesty, employs us upon starving wages ; and if
man had his way, and woman's nature not superior
to his, there would be no virtue extant. Say, then,
is it for man to persecu'e even the most profligate
among us 3 What is he better than the worst of us !
In the next place, why begin with the most ab-
ject and unprotected f Why (as you threaten to
do) pounce upon, not only the most conspicuous
israwler, but the thinly-clad and silent "lost
one" walking the streets like a trespasser, even
whet the weather would make one hesitate to
turn a dog out into it f Why should the virtuous
indignation of the present day be all expended upon
—if I may be allowed so to mention her—the
poor creature without a friend, while her more for-
tunate sister, whom I will call harlot, stares im-
pudently from out her luxurious brougham, throw-
ing more discredit upon what I understand as our
" social system" than it suffers from a score of less
pampered strumpets? I do not allude to the un-
obtrusive victim, "hiding her diminished head"
behind silk curtains, nor even the more "ex-
perienced," making "the best of a bad bargain."
(As to the latter it is wonderful what dragons of
virtue " notorious women" among them become at,
maturity !) But Ido say, sir, that the community
more than tolerates those who hind fools to set them
up where good women should b=, while it sets its
face against others who are only poorer, and less
lucky, to say nothing of the honesty that is to be
found even among the lowest.

Pray, sir, think of this, and tell those gentlemen
whose speeches I read to act upon it. They may
be husbands and fathers (is are many of all degrees
who visit us), and I can allow for their parental
solicitude. But if they be Chri,tians they will
imitate one who said, "Go and sin no more," and
not " move on," " anywhere, anywhere out of the
world." Your humble servant,
ONE MORE UNFORTUNATE.
P.S. I cannot give you my name, having so dis-
graced it, nor my address, as it is disreputable.

.MARTIAL 13AKEIZEI.—" The entry of Prince Frederick
William of Prussia with his bride it,to Berlin," says a
letter from that city, " has raised several discussions
among the different trading corporations of the capital.
The bakers, among others, have claimed the right to
wear swords, which the magistrate disputed. The per-
sons interested having addressed a petition on the sub-
ject to the Prince of Prussia, the head of the Govern-
ment, his Royal Highness wrote on the margin : 'The
bakers may wear swords, or even carry cannon if they
wish it.'"