Lucy (Chapter_20)

heard, and even from these tombs, spoke to her heart-["Silly dreams, childish fears," said she rising, "it is only the hour and the place which inspires them.--Philosophy disclaims them"--[And shaking off as it were, the serious reflections, which stole across her mind, she turned to call our poor wanderer, who still lay sobbing on her mother's grave. The last rays of the setting sun, were reflected from the large church-window, and gilded the tops of the trees, then sunk behind the woods. _____________________ ---------------------------------------------------During their ride home, Mrs Fairely sunk into almost as sad and solemn a train of thought, as the hapless orphan, and if she had not sought to dissipate it, by rushing in to noisy and vicious society, this visit might have produced good effect. Lucy retired to her lonely chamber, and Mrs Fairley into a circle of the gay, and dissolute

In every country, in every age of the world, in every system of Religion, or code of laws, the severest penalties have been { ?} to female frailty, and to man's seduction, and have been found equally unavailing. {Prison-walls --bolts and bars--monastic seclusion, the sanctity of the cloister, the severity of fathers, the vigilance of duennas; public-shame, poverty--contempt, may not death itself and death in its most terrifying forms, with all its prolonged tortures, {men buried alive} can deter man from betraying, or preserve women from frailty. Could any laws be more severe, than those of Constantine, which like Draco's were written in Blood, or those of Heathen Temples and christian monastaries?, and if there can not prevent the evil, and our milder laws even prove equally ineffectual, what avails individual severity? The spirit, not the form of Religion, alone can prevent an evict, so productive of human misery. That spirit, which purefies the heart--which subjugates the passions, which subjects the will, {to acknowledged} to the invisible power of heaven; which surrounds us with the felt presence of a God, too pure to look upon

look upon iniquity; at whose tribunal, thoughts will be deserved and adjudged more clearly or strictly, than actions before the tribunals of men! Let it then be the care of Wisdom and Humanity, of legislation and parents, to purify the fountain; and the streams which issue from it shall be likewise pure. Instead of lavishing so much expence, and so much time on the public and exterior forms of religion, let us more afiduously cultivate its spirit. Let parents, instead of giving the scriptures a wearisome and unintelligible portions to their children and contenting themselves with loading the memory with a multitude of words, endeavour to infuse into the youthful mind, the sence of those words; to purity the youthful heart, by its holy-spirit--to control the youthful passions, by a belief in an ever present Diety--to deter from vice, by pictures of the misery--or Hell, to which it leads; and to animate to virtue, by the happiness--or Heaven which shall be its reward,--then, men will not betray--women will not be frail-and human laws, and human punishments will not be necessary.

But until such a change takes place, severity will not prevent, and to "relieve, without encourage" frailty, or vice.--at least not as often as it may save and restore its victims. In the administration of human laws, the human principle is recognized, that it is better ninety and nine criminals, should escape, rather than that one innocent should suffer. In the dispensation of our holy religion it is said, "There is more joy in heaven, over one sinner that repenteth than over ninety and nine just "persons that need no repentance. Another mistaken maxim is, "that when woman once falls, she never can rise again." How many frail and weak creatures have been led, by this idea, to plunge into the abyss of vice! Mary Magdeline, is not the only sinner, who has found acceptance in the mercy of her Saviour, Shall the poor out-cast, then not find relief from the charity of christians? For Lucy--is not the only stray lamb, who might have been led back to the fold of virtue.