Miss Lesór, No. 23, Upper Newman-street.
Under how hard a fate are women born;
Prais'd to their ruin, or exposed to scorn!
If they want beauty, they of love despair,
And are besieg'd like frontier towns if fair.
††††††††††† This lady was a few years since, a servant to a gentleman's family, near Holborn: in which capacity she used frequently to walk for the air, with her little ward, in Gray's Inn Gardens, A certain gentleman of the law, perceiving a very fine girl, which she was at that time, often in the walks, took an opportunity of conversing with her, and soon after persuaded her to come and make some tea for him in his chambers. The sequel, it were needless to relate: she was debauched, and soon after deserted by her betrayer. The consequence of which was, having lost her place, and being destitute of a character, she was obliged to have recourse to her beauty for a subsistance. She took lodgings near Red Lyon Square, and had a number of successive admirers. She was, at this time, not above twenty; tall and well made, with a fine open expressive countenance, large amorous eyes; her other features in due symmetry; her mouth very agreeable, and her teeth regular; in a word, she was at that time one of the finest women upon the town, and, accordingly, made one of the best figures from the emoluments of her employments. She was same time after taken into keeping by a man of fortune, with whom she made a summer excursion in o the country; but, upon his demise, her finances being exhausted, she was compelled to have recourse to a more general commerce, in which the has not been so successful, as before; and chagrin added to the usual irregularities accidental to her profession, has diminished those charms which were before so attracting; her face is now rather bloated, and she is grown somewhat masculine in her person; she may, nevertheless, still be pronounced a very good piece, and a desirable woman.