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 from 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 Savior: 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 nor 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 nothing 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 too much 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 ner 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 every thing 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 vitious, and do not deserve her beneficence. By their idleness and intemperance 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 mean while, 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. LESSON LX. Portrait of a selfish Woman.-FREEMAN. 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 ornamen. tal 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 some appearance, 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 those plain discourses, which probe the human heart, which point out the danger of prosperity, and inculcate the necessity of self-denial and humility, she has very little relish. Humility, in particular, that grace which is so essential in the character of a true Christian, is a virtue to which she is a stranger. She entertains an exalted idea of her own dignity, and esteems nothing in this world so important, so sublime, so celestial, as a beautiful and accomplished young woman. But though she is not humble, yet she has somewhat of the appearance of humility; for she is modest in her thoughts, and delicate in her manners. Religion with her is a matter of taste, but not of action. She makes judicious observations on the sermons which she hears, and on the prayers, as far as they are the subjects of criticism; but she neither prays with her heart, nor does she receive with meekness into her heart the engrafted word. Of godliness she has not yet made a profession; for this is a business which belongs to the old and the wretched, and not to the young and the cheerful. Her behavior in her family and in society, however, may in general be said to be without reproach. As she receives the homage of every one who approaches her, she is careful to return respect; and there is no want in her of that condescension, which is consistent with a high degree of self-complacence. Of candor she possesses, if not a liberal, yet not an unusual portion. She never calumniates any one; and if she sometimes makes herself merry with the foibles of her absent friends, her wit is without malice, and is designed only to excite the mirth of the present company. In effect she loves, or at least thinks that she loves, her friends with uncommon ardor; and her private letters to them are replete with the 1 warmest expressions of affection, with the most generous and disinterested sentiments. For charity she entertains a fond regard. Charity, that divine nymph, which descends from the skies, with an eye beaming with benignity, a cheek glowing with compassion, a foot light as a zephyr silently stepping near the couch of anguish, and a soft hand gently opened for the solace of the daughters of wo; charity, which she cannot figuratively describe, without literally describing the loveliness of her own face, and the graces of her own person; charity is so charming a form, that no mind, she thinks, can contemplate her without delightful emotions. Her refined taste in benevolence, and the books which she has read, teach her highly to value this godlike virtue; and she impatiently longs for an opportunity of displaying her liberality in such a magnificent style, as to overwhelm with gratitude the object of her bounty. But the sufferer, whom she has imaged in her mind, is as elegant as herself; and though poor, yet without any of the mean concomitants of poverty. For the real poor, who daily pass before her eyes, who are gross and vulgar, rude in their speech, base in their sentiments, and squalid in their garments, she has little sympathy. Farthings would comfort them, but she gives them nothing; for her ambition is to pour handfuls of guineas into the lap of poor Maria, a lovely and unfortunate girl, who would thank her in pathetic and polished language. Thus she passes her youth, praising and affecting benevolence, but without the actual performance of good works; and, should not her heart in season be touched with piety and Christian charity, when she enters the conjugal state, she sinks into the cold and selfish matron. LESSON LXI. Fancy and Philosophy contrasted.-BEATTIE. I CANNOT blame thy choice, the sage replied, |