out of her house, to die in a distant hovel of wretchedness. She is humbly implored; but she will afford him no assistance; he is left to perish; and his orphan children would soon follow him to the grave, if the compassionate Christians in the vicinity did not afford them an asylum.

You turn with disgust, and with a degree of incredulity, from the picture which I have exhibited to your view: but deformed as it is, every feature of it is copied from nature. We have to thank the goodness of God, that the character is as rare, as it is monstrous. The prosperous, who lose sight of their Maker, or wilfully exclude him from their minds; who think that they are not born for others, but for themselves only, that their wealth is given them to be spent on their own pleasures, and not to be imparted to the needy; are constantly exposed to relapse into this lowest stage of depravity: evil habits insensibly grow worse and worse; and even woman, whose breast Heaven designed for the seat of compassion, may by degrees become thus selfish, proud,

and inhuman.

2. I would direct your attention to a less criminal, and more common, character. A woman has spent her youth without the practice of any remarkable virtue, or the commission of anything which is flagrantly wrong: and she is now united with a man, whose moral endowments are not more distinguished than her own; but who is industrious, rich, and prosperous. Against the connexion she had no objection; and it is what her friends entirely approved. His standing in life is respectable; and they both pass along, without scandal, but without much approbation of their own consciences, and without

any loud applause from others: for the love of the world is the principle, which predominates in their bosoms; and the world never highly praises its own votaries. She is not absolutely destitute of the external appearance of religion; for she constantly attends church in the afternoon, unless she is detained by her guests; and in the morning, unless she is kept at home by a slight indisposition, or unfavorable weather, which she supposes happen more frequently on Sundays than other days, —and which, it must be confessed, are several degrees less inconvenient and less unpleasant, than similar causes, which prevent her going to a party of pleasure. This however is the end of her religion, such as it is; for when she is at church, she does not think herself under obligations to attend to what is passing there, and to join in the worship of her Maker. She cannot with propriety be called a woman professing godliness; for she makes no public profession of love to her Saviour: she does only what is customary; and she would do still less, if the omission was decorous. Of domestic religion there is not even a semblance. As her husband does not think proper to pray with his family, so she does not think proper to pray with her children, or to instruct them in the doctrines and duties of Christianity. On the gospel however no ridicule or contempt is cast; and twice or thrice in a year, thanks are given to God at her table, that is, when a minister of religion is one of her guests. No time being consumed in devotion, much is left for the care of her house, to which she attends with worldly discretion. Her husband is industrious in acquiring wealth; and she is equally industrious in spending it in such a manner, as to keep up a genteel appearance. She is prudent in managing her affairs, and suffers noth

ing to be wasted through thoughtlessness. In a word, she is a reasonable economist; and there is a loud call, though she is affluent, that she should be so, as her expenses are necessarily great.

But she is an economist, not for the indigent, but for herself; not that she may increase her means of doing good, but that she may adorn her person and the persons of her children with gold, and pearls, and costly array; not that she may make a feast for the poor, the maimed, the lame, and the blind, but that she may make a dinner or a supper for her rich neighbors, who will bid her again. Though the preparations for these expensive dining and evening parties are more irksome, than the toils of the common laborer; yet she submits to them with readiness; for she loves the world, and she loves the approbation, which she hopes the world will bestow on the brilliancy of her decorations, and the exquisite taste of her high-seasoned viands and delicious wines. For this reputation she foregoes the pleasure which she would feel, in giving bread to the fatherless, and in kindling the cheerful fire on the hearth of the aged widow. Thus, though she has many guests at her board, yet she is not hospitable; and though she gives much away, yet she is not charitable; for she gives to those, who stand in no need of her gifts.

I call not this woman completely selfish: - for she loves her family. She is sedulous in conferring on her daughters a polite education, and in settling them in the world as reputably, as she is established herself. For her sons she is still more anxious: because the sons of the rich are frequently addicted to extravagance; and she is desirous to preserve them from dissipations, which would tarnish the good name that she would have them

enjoy in the world, and which above all would impair their fortunes. But here her affection terminates. She loves nothing out of the bosom of her own family: for the poor and the wretched she has no regard. It is not strictly accurate to say, that she bestows nothing on them; because she sometimes gives in public charities, when it would not be decent to withhold her donations; and she sometimes gives more privately, when she is warmly solicited, and when all her friends and neighbors give : but in both cases she concedes her alms with a cold and unwilling mind. She considers it in the same light, as her husband views the taxes which he pays to the government, as a debt which must be discharged, but from which she would be glad to escape.

As a rational woman however must not be supposed to conduct herself without reason, she endeavors to find excuses for her omissions. Her first and great apology is, that she has poor relations to provide for. In this apology there is truth. Mortifying as she feels it to be, it must be confessed that she is clogged with indigent connexions, who are allowed to come to her house, when she has no apprehension that they will be seen by her wealthy visitants. As it would be a gross violation of decency, and what every one would condemn as monstrous, for her to permit them to famish, when she is so able to relieve them, she does indeed bestow something on them; but she gives it sparingly, reluctantly, and haughtily. She flatters herself however, that she has now done everything which can with justice be demanded of her, and that other indigent persons have not a claim on her bounty.

Another apology is, that the poor are vicious, and do not deserve her beneficence, By their idleness and in

temperance they have brought themselves to poverty. They have little regard to truth; and though it must be allowed that their distress is not altogether imaginary; yet they are ever disposed to exaggerate their sufferings. Whilst they are ready to devour one another, they are envious toward the rich, and the kindness of their benefactors they commonly repay with ingratitude. To justify these charges, she can produce many examples; and she deems that they are sufficient excuses for her want of humanity. But she forgets in the meanwhile, that the Christian woman, who sincerely loves God and her neighbor, in imitation of her heavenly Father, is kind to the evil as well as the good, to the unthankful as well as the grateful.

3. I proceed to a character still less criminal. A young woman, in a state of prosperity, is not yet much corrupted by the world, and has not entirely lost the simplicity and innocence of her early years. She has passed her childhood diligently and laudably, in the acquisition of those elegant accomplishments, which are so highly ornamental to the daughters of the rich; and she is now the pride of her parents, and the object of general admiration. Of religion she has more appearance, than the character before described; for she not only goes to church, but she attends there frequently and with pleasure. In truth, nothing, except a well-acted play or interesting novel, affords her so much delight, as a discourse, which is elegantly composed, and eloquently delivered, and which sparkles with brilliant metaphors, and original similes. She is in particular charmed with sweet-toned, pathetic sermons, which fill her eyes with tears, and her bosom with soft emotions; but for