ures as
possible on a day that was appointed for brothel keepers, to attend and
bid for their purchase (hear, and much sensation). The unfortunate girls
thus disposed of were brought from abroad, and while connected with the
House of Commons he had the best evidence of this, for noblemen and
members of parliament showed letters they continually received soliciting
them to partake of the depravity (much sensation). The letters spoke of
a beautiful girl just imported from Belgium or France, and the nobleman
or gentleman, whichever he might be, was asked to visit her, as she was
at his service. In one case a letter was received from the rectory
district of that parish (Marylebone), in which it was stated that a girl
at a certain address was ready to be given up to lust to the highest
bidder. These letters were addressed to the Speaker as well as the
members of the House of Commons, and this, together with the spectacle he
(the Rev. gentleman) witnessed in Norton-street, was, he considered, very
good evidence of the abominable traffic that was carried on in this
country.

"The Rev. Mr. Marks said, within the last fifteen months he was called to
visit three Jewesses, painful as the duty was, and this visit was made in
the Rev. Mr. Garnier's district. These three girls had been imported for
the purposes of prostitution (hear, hear). In one case alone he was
enabled to take the poor creature from the abominable vice that
threatened her, and sent her home; and he nearly succeeded with another,
but with regret--aye, deep regret, he said so--he was prevented. A sum
of 200 pounds had been offered to retain the girl, and this sum was
offered by the brother of an M.P."

The discussion of the delicate question, as the _Times_ terms it, has
lately received new light in an unexpected quarter. The victims
themselves have taken to writing. "Another Unfortunate" describes her
parents. They were drunkards--their chief expense was gin--their
children were left to grow up without moral training of any kind. The
writer says:--"We heard nothing of religion. Sometimes when a neighbour
died we went to the burial, and thus got within a few steps of the
church. If a grand funeral chanced to fall in our way we went to see
that, too--the fine black horses and nodding plumes--as we went to see
the soldiers when we could for a lark. No parson ever came near us. The
place where we lived was too dirty for nicely-shod gentlemen. 'The
pu