Curiosities of Street Literature. Various
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forget the punishment of Lot’s wife, mentioned in the bible, who, for disobeying the instructions of the Lord, was turned into a pillar of salt. Let us hope this will be a warning to all persons against blaspheming.
Lines written by the unhappy Sinner since his release.
All you that blaspheme against the Lord, O hear this tale of woe,
While I relate the sufferings the wicked undergo;
I live’d a life of comfort, and riches soon would gain,
Until I blasphemed against the Lord, which has caused me misery and pain.
It rained for weeks, and then for months, it my temper sorely tried,
I cursed the raging elements, my Maker I defied,
I called upon some wicked friends, and soon their aid was given,
I wished that God might sleep six weeks, and no rain descend from Heaven!
That instant I was petrified, and almost turned to stone!
The angry elements roared aloud, and there I stood alone,
My limbs became quite rigid, the blood froze round my heart,
I struggled hard within my soul, yet I from this life must part.
While I was in this dreadful state, three visions came to me,
My poor mind was a wandering, far, far across the sea!
Satan there sat on his throne—how I prayed to be forgiven,
And there appear’d beyond my reach, the beauteous plains of Heaven!
The Angels sang such beauteous songs, and praised the glorious sight,
I stood above the great abyss, and there beheld a sight,
Their wailing sounds was horrible—dreadful oaths were said and sung,
Thousands prayed for water, to cool their parching tongues!
Again I cast my poor eyes up, and there among the best,
I saw all those I loved on earth lay on their Saviour’s breast;
Something whispered in my ear—repent—it’s not too late,
And pointing to the abyss below—such is the blasphemer’s fate.
The vision changed to Heaven’s gate, so beautiful and bright,
God waiting for the Judgment Day sat on his Throne of Light;
I thought that I was there forgiven in this most beauteous land,
And with my little family I stood at His right hand.
I awoke with cold and trembling, the Lord had heard my prayer,
My blood ran through every vein, with hope and poor despair,
I fell down on my knees and prayed, as I ne’er had done before,
I gave my word to Him above, I would never blaspheme more.
All is done for our good, we should not rebuke His will,
In spite of all bad weather, the heads of corn did fill;
The harvest was most bountiful, with abundance we were blest.
Take warning now and do not swear, God does all for the best.
H. Disley, Printer, 57, High Street, St. Giles, London.
STRANGE WARNING
TO A
REPROBATE PUBLICAN.
In Bethnal-Green, and near the school house, there is a public-house known by the name of the Gibraltar, which was long kept by one John Harris, a native of Birmingham, and silver plater by trade. This man for many years, encouraged by his great success in business, led a very irregular life, insomuch that he lost his trade in the public-house, and getting into a disorderly way entirely, the parish officers and justice refused to renew his license, and for a whole year he was fain to keep his house close. During this interval, having dismissed his servants, and his wife having left him for some words which had happened, as he sat by the parlour fire, it being the winter time, he heard the bar bell ring, which made him wonder much, knowing there was nobody in the house but himself. At first he paid but little attention, but upon hearing it distinctly a second time, he got up and went to the back door, suspecting some one had entered that way and was putting a trick upon him; but finding all safe, he returned to the fireside, wondering much at the oddness of the thing, when all of a sudden the bell fell a ringing again, though not in so quick a tone as before, but somewhat more regularly, as if the hand that pulled it held it for a while.
Disturbed at this extraordinary call, he got up, determined to discover the cause, and taking the poker in his hand, being the first thing he could lay hold on, he passed through the bar into the back room, where, to his great astonishment and terror, for he allowed that he was severely frightened, he beheld the figure of a good-looking female personage, dressed in brown, much like a Quaker, seated in a chair, between the two back windows, and leaning upon a long stick, which seemed to support her.
At first Mr. Harris was too much affected to speak, for though very valiant and noisy in company, there was something about the figure before him which declared her not to be of this world: besides, his own conscience upbraided him with more evil than his memory could just then recollect. However, he summoned power enough to put the old foolish question, “what art thou?” and with that fell on his knees in a devout manner to pray. “What I am is not now my business to relate, but what you may hereafter become if you do not amend your life and manners; so get up man, and remember the warning voice of one from the dead. You have but a few years to live, make the most of your time, and train up your daughter Phœbe in a good way, and keep her from such and such company, or she will die young, violently, and by the force of justice. Consider her life is just now in your hands, a little time will place it out of your power to reverse the evil that awaits her.—Remember this, and live accordingly.”—With this she seemed to strike the ground with her stick and immediately disappeared, leaving Mr. Harris much astonished at what he had both heard and seen, and only lamenting that he had no witness to the truth of this accident.
Be it as it will, it produced a wonderful alteration in him for the best; and though his former companions laughed at him for becoming a methodist, he ever after adhered to the paths of prudence and sobriety, and remained a very orderly and sober man, and from his invariable relation of this matter we have no doubt of its truth.
The prediction with respect to his daughter Phœbe was too fatally accomplished a few years since, she being burnt for treason as it is called, that is, for counterfeiting the current coin called a shilling.
APPARITION OF A GHOST
TO A MILLER,
About the year of our Lord, 18—, near unto Chester-in-the-Street, there lived one Walker, a yeoman of good estate, and a widower who had a young woman to his kinswoman that kept his house, who was by the neighbours suspected to be with child; and was towards the dark of the evening one night sent away with one Mark Sharp, who was a collier, or one that digged coals under ground, and one that had been born in Blackburn-Hundred, in Lancashire: