July 29, 1750

Laetitia Pilkington (1709 to July 29, 1750) was a prominent figure in Dublin society. She claimed to have been reading a book when armed men broke into her bedroom, and held the man with her, so her husband the doctor could beat him up. She subsequently slipped out of high society; even Jonathan Swift dropped her. (He dropped her husband also, let it be noted). She had tough years before her Memoirs were published and provided some income. It is said they are a valuable source of information about Swift and 18th century Dublin.

Pilkington was a writer and besides her memoirs there is a book she edited titled, Pity's Gift. The full title is Pity's Gift: a collection of interesting tales to excite the compassion of youth for the animal creation Ornamented with Vignettes from the Writings of Mr. Pratt

We quote (I left out the worst descriptions):

Now it is reported by the neighbours of the adjacent village, that the old shepherd, the father, was a mighty odd character, and bred-up his family in a very different manner from his poor neighbours. As he was unable to give them the advantage of an education like ours; and teach them Latin and Greek, he was resolved to furnish them with such accomplishments as his situation permitted. He was a man of tenderness and simplicity, and often spoke to his children in this manner: 

“ Do all the good you can, boys and girls, and be sure you do no harm. You must labour for a livelihood, but you may always get your bread innocently; and the bread that is earned honestly, will be always the sweeter for it. I am myself obliged to attend a flock; your mother is compelled to spin; to the poor sheep we are therefore all indebted ; they afford us food and raiment, they shield us from the cold, and prevent us falling into the jaws of famine. I therefore love the harmless creatures, and would not hurt them for all that they are worth: let this conduct teach you, children, to behave properly to poor dumb animals, and to use them as they deserve to be used. You are their friends, and they are yours. Prove yourselves their protectors; but I charge you presume not to' think you have any right of tyranny; and be assured, wanton cruelty will always be returned upon the tormentor.”....

[N]ow comes the cream of the story, pray therefore attend. The eldest son had one day taken the nest of a Robin, which consisted of five young ones, and a sixth just bursting from the shell. He carried them home to his brothers and' sisters, to each of which he gave a bird; but the little nestling he gave to one of the children...who wrapping it up in a piece of flannel, put it into a small wicker basket, and set it by the fire. 

The boy that found the nest, tied a string to the leg of his bird, and cruelly dragged it after him. ...The third gave his to the cat, or rather pretended to give it, for he held it first pretty close to puss’s whiskers, and then pulled it away from her, but at last she pounced upon it, and carried off one of the legs. ....

[A]bout six or seven months after this, the eldest son (which had been the cause of all this mischief) fell sick, and died; and many people are now living who say, that as he was going to be put into the ground, the ravens, rooks, kites, and other vast birds, all flew over his coffin, screamed, and could by no means be got away, nor could he rest in his grave for them....

That was an interesting example of 18th century morality tales. Here is a link to a biographical sketch of Laetitia Pilkington. Her Memoirs (1748) should be available, but you won't find them free on Google books or, the usually more reliable Hathitrust. The three volumes are available to read on archive.org.