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The Review of Reviews. 



iluty to our sisters, nnd to ourselves, we may greatly 

 rcdiice, even although we never enth-ely extirpate, 

 the plague of prostitution? For let us rememlx'r 

 that: — 



Evcrv hope which rises and grows broad 

 Tn the world's heart, by ordered impulse, streams 

 From the great heart of God. 



And if that ideal .seems too blinding bright for 

 himian eves, we can at least do much to save the 

 innocent victim.? who imwillingly are swept into the 

 m.iel.strom of vice. And who is there among "us. 

 bearing the name of man, who will dare to sit 

 down any longer with folded hands, in the presence 

 of so great a wrong? 



THE LABYRINTH OF CRETE. 



In ancient times, if we may believe the myths of 

 Hellas, Athens, after a disastrous campaign, was 

 compelled by her conqueror to send, every nine 

 years, a tribute to Crete, of seven youths and seven 

 maidens. The doomed fourteen, who were selected 

 by lot amid the lamentations of the citizens, returned 

 no more. The vessel that Iwre them to Crete im- 

 furled black sails, as the symbol of despair, and on 

 arrival her passengers were flung in to the famous 

 Labyrinth of Daedalus, there to wander about blindly 

 until such time as they were de^'oured by the Mino- 

 taur, a frightful monster, half man, half bull, the 

 foul product of an unnatural lust. " The labyrinth 

 was as large as a town, and had countless courts and 

 galleries. Those who entered it could never find 

 their wav out again. If they hurried from one to 

 another of the numberless rooms looking for the 

 entrance door, it was all in vain. They only be- 

 came more hopelessly lost in the labyrinth, until at 

 last thev were devoured by the Minotaur." Twice, 

 at each ninth vear, had the Athenians paid the 

 maiden tribute. When the third tribute came to be 

 exacted, the distress of the City of the Violet Crown 

 was insupportable. From the King's palace to the 

 peasant's hamlet, everywhere, were heard cries and 

 groans, and the choking sob of despair, until the 

 whole air seemed to \'ibrate with the sorrow of an 

 unutterable angui.«)h. 



THE .SELF-SACRIFICE OF THESEUS. 



Then it was that the hero Theseus vohmteered to 

 lie offered up among tho.se who drew the black balls 

 from the brazen urn of destiny, and the story of his 

 self-sacrifice, liis victory, and his triumphant return, 

 is amongst the most familiar of the ta'les which, since 

 the childhood of the world, have kindled the imagi- 

 nation, and fired the heart of the human race. The 

 labyrinth was cunningly wrought, like a house, says 

 Ovid, with manv rooms and winding passages, that 

 so the shameful creature of lust, whose abode it was 

 to lie, should be far removed from sight. .And what 

 happened to the victims — the voung men and 

 maidens — who were there interred, no one could 

 surelv tell. Some sav that they were done to death ; 



others that thev lived in servile employments to old 

 age. But in this alone do all the stories agree — that 

 those who were once caught in the coils could never 

 retrace their steps, so " inextricable " were the 

 paths, so "blind the footsteps," so "innumerable " 

 the wavs of wrong-doing. 



.SEVEN MAIDENS, AND SEVEN TIMES SEVEN. 



The fact that the Athenians should ha\e taken so 

 bitterly to heart the paltry maiden tribute that once 

 in nine years they had to pay to the Minotaur seems 

 incredible —almost inconceivable. This very night, 

 in London, and every night, year in and year out, 

 not se\'en maidens only, but many times seven — 

 selected almost as much by chance as those who 

 in the Athenian market-place drew lots as to v/hich 

 should be flung into the Cretan labyrinth — will be 

 offered up as the IMaiden Tribute of Modern Baby- 

 lon. 



Within the labyrinth wander, like lost souls, the 

 vast host of London prostitutes, whose numbers no 

 man can compute, but w^ho are, probably, not much 

 below 50.000 strong. Many, no doubt, who venture 

 but a little w-ay within the maze, make their escape. 

 But multitudes are swept irresi.stibly on and on, to 

 be destroyed in due sea.son, to give place to others, 

 who a'lso will share their doom. The maw of tli"^ 

 London Minotaur is insatiable, and none that go into 

 the .secret recesses of his lair return again, .'\fter 

 some vears' dolorous wandering in this place of des- 

 pair — " for hope or rest to solace there is none, nor 

 e'en of milder pang," .save the poisonous anodvn<- 

 of drink — most of those ensnared to-night will perish, 

 .some of them in horrible torture. Yet, so far from 

 this great citv being -convulsed with woe, London 

 cares for none of these things, and the cultured man 

 of the world, the heir of all the ages, the ultimate 

 ])roduct of a long series of cixilisations and religions, 

 will shrug his shoulders in scorn at the folly of 

 anyone who ventures, in public print, to raise even 

 the mildest protest against a horror a thousand times 

 more horriMe than that which, in the youth of the 

 world, haunted, like a nightmare, the imagination ol 

 mankind. 



THE HEART AND CONSCIENCE OF ENGLAND. 



Nevertheless. I have not yet lo.st faith in the heart 

 and conscience of the English folk, the sturdy, in- 

 nate chivalry and right-thinking of oiu' common 

 people ; and, although T am no \'ain dreamer of 

 Utopias, peopled solelv bv Sir Galahads and vestal 

 xirgins. I am not without hope that there mav be some 

 check placed upon this vast tribute of maidens, un- 

 witting, or unwilling, which is nightly levied in 

 London. Much of all this vice mav be inevitabl,e, 

 and with that I have nothing to do. But T do 

 ask that tho.se doomed to the liouse of evil fam-^ 

 shall not b>e tiapped into it unwillingly, and that 

 none shall lie beguiled into the chamber of death 

 before thev are of an age to read the inscriptio'i 

 above the portal : " All hope abandon, ye who enter 



