If my

locks up his heart with his money, in his strong box. limits would allow it, I could prove by stubborn facts, that God, in just indignation, often gives such penurious wretches their reward even in this life. Many, very many, of them are so deluded by avarice, that they will not allow themselves even the necessaries of life. Not a few of them commit suicide, least they should come to poverty; though in the uncontrolled possession of thousands of dollars. Others reserve their riches for their own degenerate sons; who work out their own destruction, ruin their constitutions, characters, and souls, through the instrumentality of the money their penurious parents hoarded up for them. Surely the spider in the miser's strong box, the traveller who views the lordling's domains, the beggar who beholds the jewels with which the monarch's royal diadem is studded, enjoy these baubles when their imperious owners are the food of worms, and the victims of putrefaction. At any rate, the miser can but view and admire his money, the lord of the manor his rich domains, the monarch his royal appendages; and the spider, the traveller, and the beggar can do the same. But when the great men, the mighty men, and the rich men act the part of good stewards, with the property the God of nature had entrusted them with, they gain the most supreme and superlative pleasure here, and lay up treasure at the right hand of God, which will be ready for their enjoyment, when they are taken from their earthly riches.

Many virtuous citizens, with their families who some years ago were comfortably, and commodiously situated,

While peace and plenty crown'd their cheerful board, now, alas! are reduced to absolute want. And what enhances their wretchedness, is this: being possessed of susceptible imaginations, "they cannot dig; and to beg they are ashamed.” What can they do? No employment can they procure, and consequently no resources; for when the wheels of commerce stop, ten thousands hands are immediately inactive, on which the support of helpless families depend. Their weeping infants with out-stretched arms, cling to their parent's breasts, and with plaintive voice and eloquence of eyes, they ask, but they ask in vain for bread. The busy neighbours, thoughtless of their wants, scarce know

or wish to know, the suffering tenants of the adjoining house. The industrious father, conscious of this sad reverse of for. tune, with whose veering gale false friendship flies away, petrified to see the approach of penury and rags, his very heart weeps blood, and anguish rends his breast; wherever he looks, a horrid gloom strikes his eyes, while his bosom is transfixed with unutterable agony; but alas! an ill-timed delicacy, prevails upon him to conceal his wants. He views the sons of dissipation, and the daughters of folly, cloyed with the abundance of that which his hapless children perish for the want of; and which they squander and dissipate on vanity and venality. For it is a well known fact, that the trimmings of the rich would cover the nakedness of the children of the poor.

He could with fortitude endure for his own part the bereavement of all earthly comforts; but to see a beloved wife, sick upon a bed of straw, with her starving children around her, at home, and at the same time to look abroad and see nothing but a frowning world, ungrateful friends, and the sons of pride new gilding their coaches, before they would give one dollar to save him and his family from starvation.—The dreadful contemplation is more than he can bear: he seeks refuge in suicide, and dies. His weeping, starving children sicken.-Reader, canst thou now endure the picture of their deaths?

This is a dreadful description, but it is as true as it is tragical. Mercy forms a link in the chain of duties between man and all creation. There is no duty more powerfully and repeatedly inculcated in the sacred scriptures than mercy. There is no crime against which more signal vengeance is denounced than cruelty, the opposite of mercy.

We need not refer to the maledictions in the Bible against the want of mercy. The voice of God in the creation, and in our own hearts, will abundantly demonstrate the truth of that important passage in the gospel, "Blessed are the merciful, for they shall obtain mercy:" and that beautiful and awful parable of the unfeeling servant, will show the propriety of reversing the above quotation, thus, "Cursed are the cruel, for they shall not obtain mercy."

Is it not astonishing that the world should be filled with cruelty, violence, innocent blood, mountains of human car

nage! and in short, be made a slaughter-house by man, who depends upon the mercy of God for the air he breathes, the bread he eats, the water he drinks, the clothes he wears, and every accommodation he enjoys. Sure I am, the unmerciful man is his own executioner, he annihilates both his intellectual and corporeal happiness; for the human mind is so constituted, that the tyrant is eternally punished by his own vicious cruelty, which corrodes the finer feelings, and will even eat out every germ of tranquillity. But on the other hand, the practice of benevolence produces in the mind the most exquisitely pleasurable sensations, infinitely superior to sensual gratifications; it illuminates the soul with the reconciled smiles of the divine majesty, as well as the sacred sunshine of an approving conscience.-Wherefore, O reader, if thou wouldst participate the pleasures of paradise, be merciful to every living creature, animal as well as human. And if thou desirest to anticipate the miseries of the damned in hell, only be cruel, unfeeling, unmerciful. In short, to bring the argument to a focus, mercy is the offspring of Heaven, but cruelty the most horrible inmate of hell.

"The quality of mercy is not strain'd,
It droppeth as the gentle rain from heaven
Upon the place beneath. It is twice bless'd;
It blesseth him that gives and him that takes :
'Tis mightiest in the mightiest; it becomes
"The throned monarch better than his crown.
His sceptre shows the force of the temporal power.
But
mercy is above this scepter'd sway.

It is an attribute of God himself;

And earthly power doth then show likest God's,
When mercy seasons justice-we do pray for mercy;
And that same prayer doth teach us all to render
The deeds of mercy.

Shakspeare.

Thus, where true mercy reigns in the heart, it will be evidenced by corresponding works of benevolence. Tender mercy without benevolent actions, is as impossible as the sun to shine without giving light.

The most effectual way to find happiness for ourselves, is, by first endeavouring to promote it in others. And even to

do good in secret, is to render our reward more exquisitely sweet and transcendently glorious, as this would be imitating the munificent Creator, by concealing the benefactor and bestowing the benefit. This would be doing a generous deed in a generous way, by sparing the feelings of the unfortu nate, who too often are intellectually wounded, while the hand of charity, with pompous parade, is extended to relieve their corporeal wants. Would the sons of avarice relinquish their golden god, and become the votaries of benevolence, they would soon regain tranquillity, and enjoy real peace. Then they would contemplate the folly, infatuation, and absurdity of their antecedent pursuits, and as a sailor recently snatched from a watery grave, and seated upon a rock, contemplates the imminent danger he has escaped, and is ready to stretch his hand to any of his comrades who may approach the rock whereon he is seated: so will they embrace every opportunity to snatch from impending ruin, the infatuated votaries of avarice and sensuality.

Would men forego the luxuries, and content themselves with the comforts of life, we would not see half so much human wretchednesss in the world. The rich spend the wealth God entrusted to them for benevolent purposes, on the most foolish, frivolous, and often the most destructive trifles, without ever making any reservation for God and his poor. And while they thus rob the poor of their mite, they rob themselves also of their own happiness. For it is one of the regulations of that universal justice that governs the world, that excess shall be its own tormentor. The few, monopolize the wealth of the many, either by force or fraud; consequently one part are cloyed by abundance, and of course cannot enjoy it, while the other are destitute of the necessaries of life, and of course suffer for want of it. The rich cannot enjoy pleasure, because the attainment of it costs them no trouble; they never can enjoy what they possess, because they are always coveting more, and dissatisfied with what they have.

Their wealth robs them of real pleasure—because,
They are always outrunning their necessities:

of course disgust follows satiety, and debility, disease, and premature death, follow disgust. The perfume of a thousand

roses delights for the moment, but the thorn inflicts a pain which will last for hours. The sting of the bee is more painful, than the taste of honey is sweet.. Thus this satiety and debility, produced by riches, give more pain than its sweet gives pleasure; and the rich by spending their wealth in vanity, not only rob the poor, but annihilate their own present and eternal happiness; which consists in mediocrity and benevolence. Yes, beneficence is the happiness of virtue, and no happiness on earth can be more certain, more secure, or more sacred.

But admitting, for the sake of illustration, that the rich man can enjoy real pleasure here, yet as life is uncertain, surely he must live in constant jeopardy; because he is in constant apprehension of losing his riches and happiness.

Does not God, as a just punishment, send rich men strong delusions, that they may believe a lie; and as they will not use their abundant riches for his glory and the good of his poor, are not they often so infatuated as to starve themselves in the midst of abundance. I know a man of property who goes like a beggar and lives upon the offals of the market, &c, and he has no family. I could point to the place, and mention the time when another penurious person killed himself to avoid coming to poverty; yet he died worth eighty thousand dollars, and had no family. Like the budding flower that keeps all its beauties concealed, and all its sweets locked up, are such niggardly wretches, whose aims are all turned inward, whose private interest is the centre of their designs, and the circumference of their actions. Thus, while some hoard up their wealth in iron chests, and like the dog in the manger, will neither enjoy it themselves nor let those in need partake of it: others with their riches, are sacrificing their health and reputation, corrupting their children, contaminating their neighbours, and shipwrecking their own souls, by their dissolute practices.

Notwithstanding the conviction I feel, that many of the aforesaid characters will view my arguments with the parą. lizing frown of neglect, yet I am encouraged with the confi dence, that my labour of love will not be altogether in vain, but that some benevolent persons will view them with the eye of candour; and will both commiserate and mitigate the miseries of the poor, by organizing societies similar to the