But if any reader should imagine that I here invent any thing, or that, in favor of my inference of danger from the case of revolting against the unalterable institutes of Nature, I have exagerated matters, nothing will be more easy, nor probably at the same more shocking, than the procuring himself a proof of the scarce not actual murders I have mentioned.
The parish-registers of this great metropolis are, I presume, open for inspection. There needs but to examine them, to discover the red-letter catalogue of the armies of innocents that have been put to death under the management of the charity destined to preserve their life. There will be found not one but many, even of the most populous parishes, where for fourteen, twenty, or more years, not one poor babe of the thousands taken in have escaped the general destruction, and sacrifice to that inhuman fiend of Hell, Interest. Here with what propriety might Nature borrow from one of her most dutiful children and darling, the following exclamation,
—— —— ALL my pretty ones?
Did you say ALL! what ALL?
I cannot but remember such things were,
That were most PRECIOUS to me: did Heav’n look on,
And would not take their part? Accursed Interest,
They were all STRUCK for thee!
This is so rigidly true of some parishes, that if I am not misinformed, the verification was not long ago made, as to one of them before a court of justice, of not a single infant having been brought up in the term of fourteen years. And I could name another, in which, during the course of above twenty years, ALL, ALL the new-born children that fell under the administration of the Parish-Charity, perished, except one boy, of whom it is recorded as a prodigy, that he lived till he was five years of age, when he filled up the number, and died like the rest. Will any one here say, that this TOTAL mortality was purely accidental?