Page:Maria, or, The wanderer reclaim'd.pdf/2



O think you are a father: ſoft indulgence Becomes that name; tho’ nature give you pow’r  To bind her duty, ’tis with ſilken cords: Command her, then, as you command yourſelf; She is as much a part of you, as are Your appetite and will: and theſe you force not, But gently bend, and make them pliant to your reaſon.

NSKILLED in the ways of writing, I am unable to poliſh what I pen; nothing but the artleſſneſs of my tale, and my ſincere wiſh to warn, and to profit my unhappy ſiſters in ſorrow and ſhame, can apologize for me. I have often heard and read of light houſes and beacons erected for the uſe of ſailors, to direct them in their voyages, and to preſerve them from ſands and ſhelves, and rocks. And as I have fatally ſhipwrecked myſelf, my hearty deſire is to hold up a ilghtlight [sic] to warn and direct others from thoſe rocks and ſands to which I owe my ruin.